A/N: If you haven't guessed before, I am most definitely continuing this. It is my plan to not only finish this but maybe even do a season five and six version, even though the show is over. I'm not done yet.

Disclaimer: Nothing beings to me. All quotes and characters are Gossip Girl.

Sighting

I can't talk to him, S. You don't know what it was like. Seeing him, even through the car window.

This wasn't how it was supposed to be.

But there he was.

In the middle of a crowded Parisian street, almost being run over her cab, there he was.

This wasn't how she imagined it.

Not that she could ever admit that she thought of what it would be like the first time she would see him again. But this wasn't it. This couldn't be it.

Chuck Bass. Breaker of hearts. Heir to millions.

And there she was, sitting in a taxicab in a foreign country. It almost seemed like it was supposed to happen. He wasn't supposed to be here. Of all the streets in Paris, he happened to be on this one.

In fact, in all the cities in all the world.

Some might say fate.

But as soon as she saw the look of wonder on his face and the cane he used to propel himself forward, she shut all of those thoughts down.

He was stalking her. That was the only explanation she could ever allow herself. He was obsessed and not over her and followed her to another country. Even though he was wearing a vest and jeans and even though he didn't look put together, with a slight limp in his gait, she had to tell herself that there was nothing amiss.

He was selfish and following her.

Nothing was wrong.

If something were wrong, that would be the end of it. If he wasn't looking for her and it was completely by chance, she would break.

He wasn't looking for her and he didn't want her to know that he was there. He was limping and poor.

That was the definition of wrong.

So she shut it out of her head.

She ignored those glaring facts. He was the same narcissistic bastard he had always been, not a care in the world for her feelings and her emotional state towards him.

This was all that she could handle.

Because even though he was selfish and cruel, she loved him. That was something she could never ignore. And she was nowhere near ready enough to see him—him and his glaringly dark eyes, his smug smirk, and his commanding face.

The way he looked at her.

Seeing him again would make her heart bleed. It wasn't the terrors and atrocities that he had done to her that she would remember. It was the way he made her feel. It was the love in his eyes and the way he made her sigh.

She would love him again.

If something were wrong with him on top of all that, she would be done. If she saw his limp and his unwonted attire, that cab would have stopped. She would have never told the driver to keep going and thrown open that door.

She would love him again.

Even looking through that window, she knew it. She felt as though she had been waiting to see those eyes for eons. She missed him. She loved him. She couldn't live without him.

Even through that window and one second of eye contact.

She couldn't do it.

She couldn't love him again.

"Suddenly we're stopping for pedestrians?"

She was glad someone else was driving she could have lost all sense of control.

She had been lucky.

"Vite."

It was only a second of eye contact. Her heart bled and he was left in only the rearview mirror.

One second was all it was.

And it was one second too many.

Surety

I've been waiting for the right thing to spend it on.

It doesn't look small to me.

It's enough to get us to London. Then Kerala.

Are you sure you want to do this?

I've never been more sure of anything.

She had been surprised.

That was the only thing that he was sure of.

Leaning on a cane in a waiter's uniform was not the way Chuck had envisioned Blair seeing him again. But if he were being honest, he envisioned her never seeing him again at all. She was never supposed to see him again. She was supposed to move on with her life and find someone to love her who wasn't so destructive.

Now he was sure someone was out to get him.

There she had been. Wide, dark eyes staring up at him as he felt paralyzed. He could always count on her to think on her feet and politely pretend like nothing had happened.

But something had happened.

And it was the one thing that he never wanted. Despite popular belief, he wasn't thinking about just himself all the time. He wanted her to be happy, even if it didn't include him—especially if it didn't include him.

He was in a daze by the time he reached the restaurant, only half understanding the French being thrown at him. If there was one thing Blair was good at, it was sabotaging his plans. Whether it was intentional or not, no one caused trouble like Blair Waldorf.

And he should have known that the moment he could smell her perfume in the air, Chuck Bass would be roused within him.

He put a smile on his face and spoke cordial French to the drunks in the bar, but when they had all left, her could feel his features morph and darkness settle over him. It was a familiar and comforting darkness that always kept him safe.

It was the kind of darkness that was only accompanied by the passionate, all-consuming love that he had been denying himself for three months.

And like any addiction, withdrawals were natural.

But he couldn't be weak. He would not let himself be weak anymore. Even though it was her—it was her—he couldn't do it. He couldn't ruin her life again. He couldn't surrender to the only thing that had ever made him happy.

He had to keep her safe. No matter what happened, she belonged to him. And he belonged to her. Nothing could ever sever that bond. And even though he had destroyed them in the most eternal sense, he had to protect her.

He couldn't come to her again. He couldn't look at her again. He couldn't even be in the same city as her. He knew that destruction would always follow. Combustion always accompanied them when they were in each other's proximity.

He had to be away from her.

He had to leave her for good.

He had never been more sure of anything.

Lost

I know that things were bad in New York. But if you don't come home, you'll lose the Empire. You'll lose everything you ever cared about.

I already lost the only thing I cared about. They can have everything else.

He never intended to wake up. Pain scalded him and he was plagued with nightmares of every sin he had ever committed.

That wasn't even the worst of it.

He could still remember the worst.

"You wouldn't betray me like this."

He still remembered her face.

"I couldn't let my feelings cost me all that I've built."

"Even if it means losing me instead."

He still remembered his response.

"You went up there on your own."

Now it was clear to him a slap was the least of what he'd deserved. He deserved the exile and the guilt that ravaged him from the inside.

He deserved to be drawn and quartered.

He knew that now. Now that he had lost everything, he understood that.

Eva was kind. Eva was beautiful. That wasn't anything he deserved either. But it meant that he wasn't Chuck Bass any longer. That was an honor he could do without. That was a moniker he would be glad never to see again.

Soulless.

Monster.

Beast.

It had all been too little too late and now Chuck Bass was gone.

It was for the better.

Even if it was nothing, it was for the better.

He had always had the impression that he could blunder through life, hitting and smashing into things and although great damage was done, it would never be so great to be irreparable.

He never even cared if it could be repaired before.

She changed him. And even if he was worse off, it was for the best.

The moment he hit the pavement—probably even before that—he knew that he had lost. He wouldn't have held onto that ring so tight if he thought he would have her again. Thieves were thieves and he could have easily just gone after them if he gave it up.

But he needed it as he needed her, even as the bullet tore through his insides. And it wasn't the worst pain he had ever felt. Not by a long shot. He preferred this external and physical pain to the emotional turmoil he had caused.

And nothing mattered. He had been a mistake since the moment he was conceived and that would never change. Every choice he made was a mistake.

The only thing he had ever gotten right was her. He should have known he would have destroyed that like he did everything else. None of that mattered.

He knew that as he lay bleeding to death on the street.

"This whole night didn't happen."

He knew it was better. His ring, his name, his life could be taken from him. But she was the only thing.

He would gladly watch the Empire fall into ruin and obscurity. He would relish in it. It wasn't her.

And without her, he was lost.