Chapter 6

December 2014

Chuck yanked his tie off and dropped it carelessly to the floor before slouching onto the couch, liquor bottle in hand. He raked his fingers through his disheveled hair staring blankly into the darkness of the room. Raising the bottle to his lips, he ignored the bit dribbling down the corner of his mouth.

He let out a wry laugh before hurling the empty liquor bottle at the wall. Last week, Dr. Fritts had said that she was 'cautiously optimistic' about his father's case and that she had already developed a treatment plan. They were slated to board a plane for California in three days.

The absurdity of it all was that he'd already mourned Bart's death once. Any tears or heartache this time, he told himself, was simply a waste of energy. The Master of the Universe must really be one sadistic asshole, sitting back and laughing at poor Chuck Bass and his endless daddy issues.

He stumbled into the bathroom and rifled through the medicine cabinet in search of anything to numb the ache spreading through his chest. After his overdose two years earlier, he'd remained vigilant about keeping only a minimal supply of the most basic medications, careful to avoid the temptation that opioids may produce. Bottles of aspirin, bandages, and cold syrup fell into the sink as he desperately searched into the depths of the cabinet for anything that could make him forget for a few hours.

"Dammit," he cursed to himself when his search came up empty, dropping to the floor in defeat, his knees bent, his head buried in his hands.

After several moments, shaky hands retrieved his phone from his pocket, and he stared at the screen caught between indecision. He hit 'Ignore' on the dozens of text notifications, most of which were from Nate and Serena wondering where he had disappeared to after the service. Opening his contacts, he scrolled through the list, searching for his dealer's name, but he paused when a different name caught his attention.

His finger hovered over her name for a second before he inhaled sharply and hit send on the number he could never bring himself to delete despite not using it in years. It rang five times before a sharp click indicated that the call had ended. It didn't go to voicemail, and no one picked up.

He swallowed back the bile building in his throat and tapped out a desperate text: 'I need you, Blair.'

It had been a little over two weeks since their fateful encounter in the park. When he left her bed the next day, he told her that he needed to focus on his transition to COO and prepare for the move across the country. He held her face gently between his palms as ceaseless tears fell from her eyes, and he promised that he would call her when he and Bart were settled in L.A. Her lips trembled beneath his sweet goodbye kisses, and she told him that she understood and she was always one phone call away.

His eyes glazed over, alcohol scorching through his body as he stared at the phone for what seemed like hours. Tears of frustration pooled in his eyes at the word "Delivered' next to the message. Perhaps she was asleep or her phone was dead. Maybe his phone wasn't working properly; sometimes the service was spotty inside the hotel. He lifted himself off of the floor, staggering to his feet and reeling toward the stairs leading to the rooftop patio. Holding the phone up above his head, he focused on his screen with blurry vision, but nothing changed. He restarted the phone and tried her number again, and, again, there was no answer.

He stumbled down the stairs, tripping down the last few steps in his drunken stupor, but he eventually made it back to the living room. A new feeling of dread spread over him, and he let out a pained growl as he tripped over the end table next to the couch, sending a lamp and framed photo of him and Bart to the floor to shatter into pieces.

There was nothing that could fix him then; nothing that could lessen the overwhelming feelings of anger and despair that threatened to swallow him whole. No amount of drugs, alcohol, or women could ever erase the wretchedness engulfing him. Blair was the only person who could possibly pull him out of the darkness and back into the light.

But she wasn't there.

A light knock sounded at the door, shaking him from the torment of his thoughts. He rushed toward the door, a tentative hope filling his heart. She hadn't responded because she knew he needed her; she came straight there. She dropped whatever she was doing to be with him, to help him the way she had after Bart's first funeral and when she'd found him on the hospital floor a year later. No matter what they went through, she would always be there for him. They always came back to each other. When it mattered, they were always there – she was always there.

His heart hammered against his chest, his hand shaking as he reached for the doorknob to greet her. He'd tell her that it was all a waste, and he didn't want to wait anymore. What was the point in going to California if his father no longer needed the doctor's care? He'd just re-inherited the entire damn company, and he could run the empire from New York the way he had always intended – with his Queen right by his side.

When the door opened to reveal a figure he wasn't expecting, his shoulders hunched forward, his brows furrowed in confusion. Finally, he muttered quietly, defeat evident in his voice, "You're not Blair."

"No, I'm not," Caroline shook her head slowly, offering him a gentle smile as he fell forward and buried his head in her shoulder. She wrapped her arms around him, threading her fingers soothingly through his hair as she whispered, "But I'm here."

Present Day

Chuck's blood boiled with rage as he stomped through the double doors straight to the elevator leading to the Waldorf Designs atelier. He punched the button with more force than necessary, barely able to contain his anger at Blair's immature mind games. She was the single most manipulative, dishonest, and self-centered person he'd ever met – besides himself, of course. He refused to let her get to him again, and, more than anything, he wouldn't let her drag Caroline into the middle of it.

The elevator doors slid closed, and Chuck felt like the walls to the small elevator shaft were closing in on him. He clenched his sweaty hands into tight balls, forcing himself to breathe steadily. He let out a string of expletives as he watched the numbers climb higher and higher, bracing himself to see the woman who had haunted him for years. For the longest time, he thought that his suffering was a result of his own shortcomings – that she was punishing him for his many egregious mistakes in the early years of their tumultuous relationship, but their last interaction made him think that she may derive some strange pleasure from his misery.

Too many times, he'd allowed himself to be deceived by her powers of manipulation. Her beauty and charm were his kryptonite, and she had perfected the ability to use his weaknesses against him. She always knew what to say, how to move, the exact pouty expression to get him to bow to her every whim. He was the marionette, and she pulled the strings.

But not anymore.

Not ever again.

He inhaled sharply as he stepped off the elevator, silently erecting walls around himself, arming himself against whatever ammunition she may have in her artillery. Straightening his shoulders and puffing out his chest, he assumed his most formidable posture, knowing that there wasn't a chance in hell that anything about him could intimidate her. With heavy steps, he marched into the office where a young blonde woman looked up at him, startled.

"M-may I help you?" She stammered out timidly.

"I need to see Blair," he barked, "Now."

"I'm sorry, sir," she stuttered, "But Miss Waldorf isn't available. I'd be happy to schedule an appointment."

"Listen," Chuck glanced down at the nameplate on the woman's desk, "Adria, I understand that your employer has instructed you to turn away any unannounced visitors, but I'm not going anywhere until I speak with Blair."

"Sir," Adria swallowed, "Please don't be difficult. I can take a message for Miss Waldorf, and she'll get back to you, but if you don't leave, then I'm going to have to call the police."

Chuck rolled his eyes at the assistant's pathetic attempt at intimidation. He sidestepped her desk and pushed his way to the back where he knew Blair's office was located, Adria following after him in a panic.

"Blair!" Chuck yelled loudly, banging on the door. "Blair!"

"Sir," Adria yelled, "I'm calling the authorities." She held up her cell phone for him to see, her hand shaking from the strange invasion.

The door to Blair's office opened, and her large eyes widened when she saw Chuck standing a few feet in front of her, the muscles in his throat flexing under the weight of his clenched jaw. Her pulse quickened and a large lump formed in her throat, but she forced her face into a composed expression, turning to her assistant, "Leave us, Adria."

"But -" Adria's eyes darted back and forth between the man and her boss, fear coursing through her at the thought of leaving Blair alone with someone so clearly agitated.

"Now," Blair's voice was even, her eyes never leaving Chuck's.

They stared at each other with an intensity that caused Adria to shutter from the tension rolling off each of their bodies, their chests heaving as she quietly gathered her belongings and exited the atelier, concern marring her delicate features as she glanced back helplessly.

"I'm fine," Blair assured her cooly, arching an eyebrow at Chuck as if there was a challenge hidden behind those words. After the door closed, and they were alone, she offered Chuck a smirk and said, "What can I do for you, Chuck?"

He narrowed his eyes furiously and snapped, "Stay the hell away from Caroline."

Blair's lashes fluttered against her cheeks as she forced a fake smile. "Oh, that's right," she cooed, propping herself against her desk and clasping her hands together, "I hear congratulations are in order."

"Drop the innocent act, Blair." His jaw flexed, and she knew that he was biting back his anger, trying his best to keep control of his emotions that were threatening to bubble over at any moment. "Why did my fiancé receive a recruitment email from you?"

The slight flinch in Blair's muscles at the word 'fiancé' wasn't lost on Chuck, but he ignored the erratic fluttering in his chest in favor of the fury surging through his veins. Allowing his temper to take control of his words was the only way to combat his treacherous heartbeat.

Blair exhaled, studying Chuck carefully before responding. She could read him clearly, and each of his tells - his tense shoulders, the flicker behind his eyes, the redness tipping his ears – betrayed the battle raging inside of him. He was angry, but there was a stronger force stirring inside of him than he would let his words convey. He was conflicted, and that's how she knew she already had the upper hand.

"Come on, Chuck," she spoke softly, returning to her chair behind her desk to assume a less threatening position, an unspoken gesture meant to mollify him for a moment. "Caroline Whitlock is one of the most sought after models this season; of course, Waldorf Designs is interested in working with her."

"I might buy that," he seethed, "If she hadn't been blacklisted from Waldorf Designs for the past two seasons, if the email didn't come an hour after you tried to coerce my concierge to give you a meeting with me, and if anyone else was sitting behind that desk right now."

"What are you implying?"

"This is another one of your twisted schemes," he accused, "I just don't know why. I don't know what your end goal is." He exhaled slowly, shaking his head in his first display of vulnerability since he'd walked into her office. "I'm tired of games, Blair, and I won't let you drag Caroline into whatever you're planning."

She looked away, closing her eyes to keep the tears at bay. The power struggle was over, and they had both lost. The ache spreading through her chest intensified into a stabbing pain, and she could no longer maintain her unaffected demeanor. "I'm not playing games," she whispered quietly, returning to face him with sadness reflecting behind her dark eyes. "Not anymore, at least."

He dropped into the chair across from her as he felt the walls he'd built around himself start to crumble. He'd promised himself that he would remain strong, armed against her emotional pleas, but his resolve was no match for the pang of fear and guilt twisting in his chest from the hurt expression written on her face.

"What do you mean 'not anymore'?" he rasped.

"I mean…" She released a shaky breath, a solitary tear forming in her eye. "You were right. I was playing games with Caroline's contract, but that's not -" She swatted the tear away as it freed itself from her lower lashline. There was a weariness outlining the corners of her eyes, and he refused to allow himself to consider what might have caused it. "I don't want to play games. I'm sorry for doing it this way, but I…I just wanted to talk to you."

He had to look away from her. Everything in him wanted to scoop her into his arms and wipe her tears away, like he'd done so many times in the past. She abandoned you, his mind taunted him, she's playing you again. He never felt weaker than he did in her presence.

"Blair," his voice was thick as he fought off the emotions whirling through his mind. He spoke as gently as he could while maintaining a firm tone. "I don't know what we could possibly have to talk about. I'm getting married."

"I know." She couldn't stop her lip from quivering as she spoke. "I'm not trying anything, Chuck, I promise. I don't want to get in the middle of your relationship, but I -"

Her voice broke, and she buried her head in her hands, frustrated at her inability to get her thoughts out. Chuck remained silent, watching her, unsure what to say or do. Part of him – the harsher side, the side that was so tired of the emotional tug-of-war he always seemed to find himself in with Blair – wanted to tell her to just leave him and Caroline alone, to walk away and not look back, but, the other side – the side that broke a little more with every soft sob escaping Blair's mouth – refused to shut her out.

Gently, he prodded, "What's all this about, Blair?"

She wiped her eyes, pushing her hair off of her face, and let out a humorless laugh. "It seems so silly now."

"Blair -"

Her mouth curved into a sad smile at the way he said her name in the same tone that he'd always used with her years ago when his patience would start to grow thin. "I miss you -"

"Blair," he growled out more forcefully, bracing himself for the same spiel he'd heard from her three other times over the past few years.

She immediately started shaking her head when she realized that he thought she was taking the conversation in a different direction than she intended. "No, I mean, I miss you and Serena and -" She paused, watching him relax back into his seat once again. "I miss my friends. We used to be friends."

"Things change." He swallowed the lump forming in his throat.

"But they don't have to." Her voice was meek, as if she'd lost all of her courage at those words. "I don't know where everything went wrong, but -"

His face hardened, and he felt the anger resurfacing at that confession. He could rattle off a long list of reasons that things ended badly between them, but that was a conversation better left in the past. He'd moved on, and rehashing years-old pain would only make things worse. Instead, he wiped his clammy hands against his trousers and asked, "What do you want from me, Blair?"

"All I want is for us to try to be friends again." She bit her lip, her expression equally vulnerable and hopeful. "I messed up a long time ago, and it cost me two of my best friends. I'll never regret anything more than that in my entire life, but please, Chuck -"

He stood from his seat, his thoughts swirling in his head so quickly that he couldn't focus on a single one. He felt dizzy, and he didn't know how to respond. In a way, it felt like a trap, but he couldn't quite wrap his mind around what she was getting at. Why was she doing this now?

"I don't know how to be your friend anymore, Blair." He turned to face her, a slight shrug in his hunched shoulders. She could see the defeat outlining his frame. "I'm sorry, but there's too much history here for us to be friends."

"Don't say that," she whispered, pushing herself up from her chair and coming to stand directly in front of him. Tears continued to tumble down her cheeks, and she inhaled a ragged breath to keep from falling to her knees. "You once said that we're not strangers."

"But I never said we were friends, either." His own breathing came out in unsteady waves, and he took a subconscious step back to place more distance between their bodies.

"Chuck -"

"Blair, there's nothing left here." He locked his jaw, turning his back to her once more because he couldn't take the pain etched into her face. "We don't have a place in each other's lives anymore. It's just better this way."

She sniffled, nodding her head in reluctant acceptance. "But we do have a place in each other's lives now. I really do want Caroline to be the face of Waldorf Designs; ulterior motives aside, she's a perfect fit. If she and I are working together, then naturally you and I will be seeing each other."

"Don't play her, Blair," he warned, his war-torn heart nearly beating out of his chest at the thought of these two women working together. "She's worked really hard, and she deserves this. She's not a pawn in our games."

"I'm not." She held her hands up in mock surrender. "But perhaps the time together will give me a chance to earn back your friendship – organically, of course."

Chuck raised his eyebrows and nodded. "I'll be amicable, but I need you to understand that Caroline is my priority now. If anything happens that isn't to her benefit, then all bets are off. I'm doing this for her, not you."

"Of course," she smiled, biting down the bile rising in the pit of her stomach. "I'll be planning a celebratory dinner to welcome Caroline to the team soon, and you'll see, I'll be on my best behavior."

XOXO

The next evening, Blair walked into the restaurant for her dinner date with Nate with just a little more confidence in her step than the day before. Her discussion with Chuck hadn't gone quite as expected; he had more pent-up anger than she'd anticipated, and she couldn't for the life of her understand where it was coming from after all these years. Regardless though, she'd seen the battle taking place behind his eyes. Despite the harsh words he spoke, she'd seen the glint in his eye when she told him that she missed him. It would take effort, but she was ready and willing to face whatever he would throw at her. He'd asked her what her end goal was, and, if she was honest with herself, she didn't really have an answer to that question. If he was truly happy, she didn't want to take that away from him. All she knew was that she was desperate to have him in her life again.

She stopped in her tracks a few feet from the table when she saw that Nate wasn't alone. Blinking, she recognized the long blonde mess of hair and froze, her heart rate accelerating to a painful rhythm.

Nate finally spotted her and he rose from his seat, a smile on his face as he approached her. "Hey, Blair," he kissed her on the cheek, placing his hand on the small of her back to guide her to the table. "Just breathe," he whispered in her ear, "I promise everything is okay."

Serena stood as they approached the table, her blue eyes shining brightly as familiar emotions lodged themselves in her throat. "Hi," she spoke softly.

Blair shook her head as the tears fell down her cheeks, and without hesitation, she threw her arms around the blonde's neck. "I'm so sorry," she cried. "I'm so sorry for everything."

"Me, too," Serena cautiously returned her friend's hug, still fighting the conflicting feelings beating in her chest. She wasn't sure if she was ready, but seeing the tears streaming down Blair's cheeks was the perfect reminder that she also had plenty to apologize for. The guilt was crushing as she realized that she needed forgiveness more than Blair did.

In truth, when she'd cut Blair off, she'd still harbored anger and hurt feelings about Blair and Dan, but, more than that, she couldn't face Blair after what she and Nate had done. It was easier to distance herself, especially after she moved to California, than admit that she'd made a huge mistake. In many ways, she felt like she wasn't deserving of Blair's friendship, so she blamed her for their falling out, when she shared just as much responsibility – if not more so.

Nate had suggested that they confess their meddling to both Chuck and Blair, and let them do with the information what they will, but Serena immediately and adamantly disagreed with him. She convinced him that nothing good could come from it except more heartache. Chuck and Blair would both hate them, and for what? Nothing could change the past. Chuck was engaged, and all they could do now was focus on making it right – on helping Blair find her own happy ending.

Nate pulled Blair's chair out for her and said, "I'm going to head out. You two have a lot of catching up to do."

As their conversation melded into a natural flow that only two lifelong best friends could adopt after a year's separation, Blair felt like a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Her life was finally returning to normal; she found her true smile again, and, for once, the ever-present throb of loneliness was absent in her heart's beat.

The laughter that night, though, was anything but lighthearted for Serena. A new pang had worked its way into her chest; this time, the throb was from the guilt knotting itself together as she listened to Blair regale her with the story of her meeting with Chuck.

A/N: I need you guys to suspend disbelief a bit, and bear with me on this because I know that some of the reasons that Chuck and Blair are apart are a little weak, but the only way to explore a fic where Chuck moves on is to make him think that Blair doesn't love him as much as she claims she does. At this point, he has to feel like he's always Blair's second choice, an afterthought when her life isn't as great as she wants it to be. He would never move on otherwise. He also got a little scared by how much his happiness relied on Blair, and he finally realized (maybe incorrectly) that it was healthier for him to find a way to exist without always 'pining' after Blair and letting her control his thoughts. Like always, Bart's words influenced him pretty heavily in that regard. His emotions and perception is pretty skewed at this point in the story, and he unfairly blames Blair for everything. He's angry and he's sad, but he can't quite pinpoint where those emotions are coming from.

The sad thing about this story is that there were a lot of missed opportunities over the years for them to reconcile, but timing was never on their side. They're now at a point where there's a lot of regret and a lot of things that they wish they could've done differently, but it's too late. So now we have to move them away from the heartache of the past to forgiveness and a fresh start.

While I was writing this chapter, 'Someone Like You' started playing, and I think it's the perfect song for this story. If you're feeling up to it, give it a listen. :)