Dead Boy Walking (Chapter 1 of 'The Once & Future Bass')

"When you know that language, it's easy to believe that someone in the world awaits you, whether it's in the middle of the desert or in some great city… without such love, one's dreams would have no meaning." – The Alchemist

Author: Isabelle
Rating: PG-13 (language, adult situations, violence)
Spoilers: All of Season 1 & some aired Season 2 promos
Summary: In Season 2, Blair finally forgives Chuck and re-unite after their break-up; that same night, Chuck witnesses something that takes him away from the UES and Blair. Years later, he's back to save her and those he left behind.
Disclaimer: I own nothing that has to do with Gossip Girl; CW owns them along with their creators. Lyrics: "Leaving her Alone" by Ari Hart.

A/N: I resisted doing another series; I've had trouble completing my series in the past few years, so I decided not to post until I had a few chapters written, just to pump myself up. Some years ago, I saw La Femme Nikita and this idea stems from that; the fact that a normal person is taken from their lives and made to join an organization. So those of you who are familiar with it will find some similarities.

A special thanks to my awesome BETA, Tatiana!

--

"When we love, we always strive to become better than we are." – The Alchemist

As he remembered her face years later, he would lie to himself and say that her eyes never told him that she loved him. Yet at the moment that it happened; at the birth of its conception, he never dared believe the lies. Lies are what kept him alive, lies created him and, in turn, he created them because what else would Chuck Bass be if not a lie he himself had constructed?

"I missed you so much," she had whispered against his mouth as they stumbled blindly into her room; grasping at air, removing clothing faster than they ever placed it on their skin.

He let the words wash over him as he grabbed her legs, she had wrapped them around his waist and he could feel the heat that emanated from between her legs as it warmed his lower belly.

"I missed you more," he said huskily. And he had, he was sure.

Her hands grasped the back of his head as he entered her and she threw her head back, exposing her throat. She was majestic. He could live a thousand years and never want anything more.

Her slick skin against his; her eyes on him, her mouth devouring him… She was his goddess.

As he lay on top of her, breathing harshly, licking the sweat from right under her breast, the words wanted to come out – they were desperately trying to fumble out.

"Chuck?" she had asked.

"Blair?" he smirked, looking up at her. She was gazing at the ceiling, her small hand playing with his hair.

"Do you think we're forever?"

God, he wanted it to be forever. Forever. Was there even such thing?

"That depends on you," he whispered, crawling up to face her. She took him in then and that's when he saw it. That look he denied so many years later.

He touched her cheek and she leaned into it, closing her eyes slowly.

"If I live forever, then yes," he had said then.

She had smiled; she was beautiful when she smiled.

"I'll live forever, too. I'll live forever with you," she whispered and closed the space between them with a kiss. A soft, intimate kiss that raised the hairs on the back of his neck.

When they woke a few hours later, she began talking and he began listening. They had talked often in their short lives- she was the one who usually initiated the conversation; he was the one who often paused the conversation with his remarks or sarcastic undertone that annoyed her.

"… and then he said we could come visit him next summer, I'm sure you'll love it there. The sun looks different and everything is fresh and inviting…"

Her voice lulled him and he wished to stay buried in it for the rest of his life.

"Are you listening to me?" she demanded, giving his chest hair a tug.

"Hanging on to your every word," he had hissed and she smiled, getting on top of him and beginning their cycle once more.

"I should go, go before Dorota barges in here and hits me with a duster," he said quietly. She was between sleeping and waking and she moaned in protest, pulling him to her.

She opened her eyes and looked at him, eyes like that….

"Blair," he whispered, touching her now, touching the face that now belonged to him.

"Chuck," she had whispered back, touching his face in return. The soft hum of the air conditioner was the only noise in the room.

The universe was theirs.

"I've never felt like this before," he finally confessed. Her eyes shone bright in the glow of moonlight.

"Felt like what?" she had asked, a tiny glint in her eyes that told him she just wanted to hear him say it.

He couldn't look at her anymore. How many women had he seen under him, begging to hear words from him – words that he couldn't even form now?

"I…" he began, burying his fingers in her curls.

"You…" she smiled, bringing his face down so that their foreheads were touching.

It was the most intimate moment of his life and that fluttering that Blair called 'butterflies' were marching on full speed ahead.

"I… don't know how to say these things, Blair. I'm afraid you've fallen for the worst guy imaginable." He sighed and dropped his head on her shoulder.

She chuckled.

"That's not true, my boyfriend can be very romantic when he wants to be, if he wasn't so terrified half the time."

He looked up at her and nodded.

"You messed me up good, woman." He captured her lips and she moaned against his mouth, pressing her body even closer to his.

"I really have to go this time." He stood from bed, disentangling himself from her a few hours later. The light was minutes away from appearing in the sky, and they were racing against time.

"No!" She whimpered and grabbed on to his hand, sitting up on her knees. "We've been apart for so long, don't go. Please stay."

"Hey, I'll see you in a few hours. How about I pick you up? We can ride to school together," he kissed her hand. "Show the world who we are?"

She melted into him as she hugged him.

"I like this plan," she murmured as she kissed him.

He felt like a different man with this angel in his arms; brown hair cascading around her. Opening herself to him, accepting him, loving him. He never wanted to leave her. They say you don't find who you're going to love for the rest of your life in high school. How wrong they were.

He caressed her face and smiled down at her.

"Just a few hours," he promised, kissing her forehead and lingering against her for a moment before walking out. He did turn back and glance at her as he walked out. Her hair was a mess around her face, the blanket only covered her breasts and he could see the delicate curve of her hips and her eyes that looked longingly at him.

"Just a few hours," she repeated softly before he closed the door behind him.

When the door of the limo closed behind him, he couldn't control the smile that had permanently etched itself on his face. Driving through New York, his heart felt light and bouncy. Like he wanted to jump out and start a choreographed dance number with Sinatra undertone. He loved New York. The city was both mother and friend; protecting him, teaching him lessons and bringing him the best things in his life along with its worst—

He told himself years later that if he hadn't been in such a good mood, watching the streets, enjoying how the darkness had spread its wings over the city's alleys, he wouldn't have seen what he saw. His life would've continued, he would've seen Blair in a few hours, and they would've lived happily ever after. Yes, Chuck Bass lived through lies at times.

The alleys. The alleys were places the UES pretended didn't exist. They didn't look at them, didn't acknowledge them. For a true UES citizen, an alleyway might've as well been in Mars. Apparently Chuck Bass was in Mars that early morning, for he saw something that made his heart jump. He quickly asked his driver to stop.

He opened the door carefully and gripped his cell phone in his hand almost… nervously. He walked with quiet steps in the dark and damp streets. As he approached the scene, a cold sweat broke throughout his skin.

A man was killing another man. With a shaky hand, he pulled out his phone and pointed it at the scene. A tall large man dressed only in black finished strangling a gurgling man and then let the body drop to the floor. The killer had a mask over his face and wore a utility belt. He looked like a professional killer and this chilled him even more.

He'd seen enough movies to know he shouldn't be there. He should have let the limo keep driving. He was turning, as quietly as he could, heart in his throat, when he was met by a black wall.

Another person, dressed in black.

"You're going to regret getting out of your limo for the rest of your life," a woman's voice told him. He attempted to barge past her but before he had time to react, she hit him. Hit him so hard his head snapped back and the world went black.

--

Blair huffed as she made her way to Serena, who was waiting for her on the steps of the Met.

"Where is your brother?" Blair demanded; hand on hip glaring down at Serena. Serena for her part looked even more confused than usual.

"I thought he was with you," Serena licked her spoon and dug in for more yogurt.

"He was! Then he left to go home!" Blair snapped, sitting down next to her and pulling out her cell phone.

"So, I'm thinking you guys are official," Serena smirked, eying the glossy Blair.

"Yes… well, that is if I forgive him for leaving me waiting for him," Blair told her, annoyed that her messages had gone unanswered.

"You guys just made up!" Serena laughed.

Blair's anger melted and was replaced by a dreamy, sappy smile.

"S, it was amazing," she admitted. "I think I'm going to love him for the rest of my life."

Serena let out another bark of laugher. "Took you two long enough! I mean, since summer, it's been like 'I hate you, but I love you' looks. Most of us didn't even know how to act around the two of you."

Blair smiled again, touching her lips.

"You have to promise me to go easy on the PDA when I'm around. I'm still adjusting," Serena smirked and patted Blair's shoulder.

"I don't care if the whole world sees us. He's mine and I'm his and it's going to be perfect this time."

Nate came bounding up the steps, face red and faced the two girls.

"Have you guys seen Chuck?" Nate asked, pleasantries aside.

Serena shook her head.

"He should be here any minute," Blair told him, eying her nails.

"When did you see him?" Nate demanded, his eyes sharp.

"Archibald, I don't think –"

"When, Blair?" he yelled.

That's when she noticed he was worried – his hair was messier than usual and was missing his tie.

"This morning – really early," she admitted. "What's wrong?"

Nate was silent but the worry was uncontained. "Bart called me."

Blair nodded, standing up to face him. "And?"

Nate looked at her slowly, unsure at what to say. "They found his limo."

Serena looked at Blair, worriedly.

"It was empty. The driver was gone… and so was Chuck."

Serena glared at Nate and took Blair's hand.

"Nate! It probably broke down and he had to take a cab!" Serena squeezed Blair's hand.

Nate realized that Blair was unnaturally quiet and then cleared his throat. "Yeah, that's probably what it is. He was having problems with his phone too, you know."

"Take me to see Bart," Blair said, her voice oddly soft, almost detached.

"He's probably-" Nate began, running his hand over his hair.

"Take me." She took a deep breath. "He was supposed to come pick me up. He said 'just a few hours.' That's what he said."

"B…" Serena looked to Nate for support.

"Right, let's go then – but when he shows up in a cab both of you are going to feel really stupid."

The cab dropped them off at Bass Enterprises a few minutes later and Bart's secretary had them wait before they let them to see the Big B.

Lily exited the office before the secretary came out, looking shaken, pale and completely un-composed.

That's when this odd feeling reached Blair's stomach. It was a feeling that something was about to change all of their lives forever.

"Mom!" Serena stood to meet her and Lily took her aside.

"What's going on?" Serena asked, and Lily motioned for her daughter to follow her.

When they were out of ear-shot, with only Blair's pale face looking at them, Lily took a breath.

"Serena," her mother's voice made her nerves frazzle. "This is just horrible."

Serena tears in her mother's eyes. "The police – they just came to inform Bart… they've found Chuck's body, Serena. They found him dead."

Serena stared at her mother, letting the words chill her to the bone.

"Oh, honey, this is just horrible. Apparently they attempted to rob the limo and he… he was killed." Serena hugged her mother fiercely, sucking in deep breaths. She couldn't tell Blair. She couldn't tell Nate. She just couldn't.

Lily pulled away and looked at Blair, who was now standing and looking at them in a lost gaze.

"I'll tell them," Lily told Serena and her daughter nodded, holding her hand against her mouth, asking the tears not to come.

She watched as Lily attempted to get Blair to sit down, but the brunette stood stubbornly and demanded to know what was happening.

Serena knew Lily had told her when Blair collapsed into Nate. Her screams haunted her for years.

"How is she doing?" Serena asked Eleanor quietly a few days later as they were all getting ready for the funeral.

Eleanor had bags under her eyes and looked worriedly towards her daughter's room.

"Not well," she stated. "This is just… it's just horrible. She won't let anyone clean her room. Says the sheets smell like him."

Serena's eyes filled with tears once more. She felt like she'd been crying for days. Which she had. Her heart was broken and breaking even more every time Bart shut himself in his office and drank, when Eric would stare blankly at the wall during dinner, when Nate would show up at her house and simply ask to be in Chuck's room, and when Blair wouldn't leave her bed sheets.

"I'll see if I can help her get dressed," Serena said quietly and Eleanor nodded gratefully.

She found Blair in her nightgown, her shrinking body lost under her sheets and clutching a pillow for dear life. Serena shed her coat and attempted to sit down on the bed.

"No!" Blair screeched and glared at her.

Serena backed away from the bed.

"Ok, B. I'm not going to touch the bed." Serena took a seat and looked at her best friend. Her skin was pallid and translucent, her eyes were dark and blotchy, and her lips were pale and dry.

"You need to get ready," Serena said after a while. "The… funeral starts at three."

Blair's face slowly crumbled and she let out a dry sob. Serena tried to hold back her own tears, but they dribbled down her face.

"He… he said, he told me, he said-" Blair sobbed. "Just a few hours. But I've been waiting, S. I've waited a few hours, and he's not coming, is he?"

Serena ignored Blair's look of panic and sat on the bed, pulling her friend to her as Blair screamed into her shoulder.

"He's not coming," Blair repeated over and over.

Between Serena, Dorota and Eleanor it took 2 hours to get Blair dressed. Blair was shaking and so very skinny that it worried Serena.

"Has she eaten?" She asked Dorota as Eleanor helped Blair into her shoes.

The maid gave her a look like she should know better and Serena sighed. Blair insisted on wearing Chuck's necklace even though it clashed, according to Eleanor.

Nate arrived as they were finishing, he was escorting them to the funeral. Seeing Nate for the first time since she had found out Chuck was dead made Blair break down. Nate had to literally carry her to the limo as she sobbed against his jacket.

"Serena." Blair told her quietly during the ceremony. "I think… I think he's watching me."

A cold chill covered her once more at Blair's words.

"I don't know why, but I do."

Nate looked at Blair when he heard her words.

"Blair, I'm sorry for everything." He said his eyes red and his face pale. "I should've never… I mean… I should've told you sooner that he loved you."

A small tear dribbled from the corner of Blair's eye and she leaned in and kissed Nate softly on his lips.

It was a friend kiss. A kiss that told him that none of it mattered anymore.

"I like looking at you, Nate. Because when I do – it's almost like he's next to you. He was always next to you since we were little."

And Nate embraced her, both mourning for the person they loved.

--

When Chuck woke up, he was acutely aware that he had been knocked out and knocked out good. He swore and attempted to stand up. His head felt like he was being shaken at an irrationally fast rate.

So, yes, he was more of a lover than a fighter, but he had gotten in enough fights to know he was on the losing end.

That's when he noticed he was not in his usual surroundings. The room was white, sterile and empty. Just him in nothing but his boxers.

He looked around, alarmed.

Had he been placed in a mental institution? Was he in a hospital?

Shit. Was he dead?

That thought made his blood run cold.

"Hello!" his voice was hoarse.

"Good morning, Mr. Bass," an electronic voice filled the room and Chuck stood up, alarmed.

"Who are you?" Chuck demanded, holding his head. "Why am I here?"

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions but let me clarify that none of them are to be answered right now."

"Do you even know who I am?" he demanded, looking angrily at the walls.

"Yes," the voice replied. "That fact is most likely the reason you're alive and not dead. Like your driver."

"John?" Chuck asked, alarmed.

"Dead. You will never ask about him again." The voice replied.

Fear caught his heart and he looked for a way out.

"Goodbye for now."

The voice was silent for a few hours, hours which Chuck spent attempting to break down the walls, shouting and screaming. Nothing helped. When his bladder felt like it should explode, he urinated on the wall and sang a Disney song loudly to annoy the voice.

He was half asleep and attempting to ignore the smell of urine that had taken over the room when one of the walls opened to reveal a door and a tall, beautiful black woman walked in with a tray in her hand.

Chuck sat up and eyed the door.

"If you attempt to escape, they will kill you and your girlfriend. I wouldn't suggest it." Her voice was smooth and fragrant. She was Jamaican, he could tell from all of his vacations there.

"Who are you?" He demanded.

A man, large as a wall, walked in behind her and brought with him a small table and two folded chairs. He placed them down, allowing the woman to set the tray for him. The large man left the moment he was done, the wall closing behind him. The woman took a seat and observed Chuck.

Chuck looked down at the tray filled with hospital food and then up at her.

"I don't have a girlfriend," he stated and took a seat calmly across from her.

The woman sighed and she stared at him, with an eerie calm. "Then you don't mind that we kill Blair Waldorf? Very well." She rose and he rose with her, desperation in his face.

"Wait! Ok. I have a girlfriend. Fine. I do. You don't go near her."

"Your time for demands is over. I understand that for a little rich boy like yourself who has had everything he's ever wanted, this will come hard, but it's the first lesson I suggest you learn."

"How much do you want?" Chuck asked.

A cold smile spread on her lips.

"Your money is worthless here," she said.

"Money is never worthless," Chuck snapped.

"Second lesson: if you ever contradict me again, I will kick your balls so hard that you will taste them in the back of your throat."

Chuck gulped as he got a visual.

"I'm listening," he said.

"No interruptions."

"None," he agreed.

She sat back down and calmly crossed her legs.

"Two days ago, you intercepted a mission and witnessed something you shouldn't have. Normally, this would call for immediate termination of the witness. But because of who you are, someone, and I don't know who, intervened on your behalf. You were brought back here to base and have been asleep since. As of right now, all of your family and friends believe you to be dead. In a few hours, they will be attending your funeral."

He felt sick.

"Congratulations, you've made front page news." Her voice was cold as she pulled a newspaper from under her jacket and placed it on top of his cold mashed potatoes.

Chuck starred down at the paper before him and took in his own face printed on page one.

YOUNG BASS KILLED IN ARMED ROBERY.

"We're all still dealing with the shock," stated Mrs. Bass, the new wife of empire builder Bart Bass or Big Bart Bass as he's known in the business world.

Charles Bartholomew Bass was 18 years old and a senior at St. Jude's School for Boys. The Young Bass had been recently romantically linked with young heiress Blair Waldorf, daughter of acclaimed clothing designer Eleanor Waldorf. There is no comment from the Waldorf family, and Miss Waldorf has not been seen since the incident.

He couldn't read anymore and tossed the paper on the floor angrily.

"They can't go on thinking that I'm dead!" he shouted. The thought of Blair simply breaking down because of this lie killed him. He hoped no one left her alone – for even a moment – especially not near a toilet.

The woman gave him a warning glance and he shut up.

"So this is what happens now. You have a choice. A limited choice, but a choice nonetheless."

Chuck glared at her.

"Your life is no longer yours, it belongs to the Sector. You can choose to become part of the sector and attempt build a new life, or you can choose to die. We can easily replace the false cadaver with the real one."

"You're blackmailing me?"

"Please understand that if you choose to live and hold on to that hope that one day you will be able to escape and run far, far away where your billions can save you, I regret to inform you that is not going to happen. Ever."

She stood up, gracefully and stoically.

"Before you make a decision, young Bass, I have something I would like you to see."

He followed her as she took him through a maze. They reached a man behind a desk that wore the same stoic expression. He saw them and pulled out some neatly folded clothes.

"Put these on," she told him and watched him squirm as he dressed himself in hideous black cargos and a black shirt.

She turned, and he followed her down another tunnel. When they reached a door that a woman was guarding with a large gun in her hand, it opened and he saw sunlight. He let out a breath of relief.

The woman looked at him. "My name is Tersa, by the way."

Tersa walked past the she-guard, and he followed her towards what looked like a large black SUV.

"Get in," she stated, and he slid into the open door. She slid in next to him and, before he was able to react, she had a gun out and was shoving it between his ribs. He let out a cry.

"Just so you know that I hold no hesitation in killing you," Tersa informed him and motioned to the man behind the wheel to drive.

The glass was tinted so dark that Chuck couldn't see where they were going. He looked up at Tersa, who had now slid dark sunglasses over her eyes. She watched him without emotion.

When the car finally stopped about two hours later, Chuck was sleepy and wished he had eaten the food Tersa had brought him. His stomach was growling and he was pretty sure he'd never been this hungry in his life.

Tersa took out of her bag a pair of sunglasses, always maintaining the gun at his side, and handed them to him.

"Is it sunny?" He sneered, annoyed and crabby.

Tersa didn't reply and simply waited for him to do as he was told. Chuck Bass hated to be held by the balls. He put the sunglasses on and turned to Tersa, and that's when he saw it. He was able to see out of the SUV. They were in a grassy area… a cemetery. Chuck's insides froze with dread.

Over Tersa's shoulder, he had a pretty good view of a funeral taking place and he felt like vomiting when he saw his father's sunken face and a trembling Lily at his side. He gulped. He scanned the crowd and saw some people from school, everyone dressed in black but still looking very fashionable. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a car pull up and he almost called out to Nate when he saw him exit the car. Behind him came Serena looking as stunning as ever in a black pantsuit. That's when Nate reached and pulled out a trembling Blair, who looked like death had taken over her.

His insides burned and his jaw twitched as he saw Nate nearly carrying her to where the service had just started.

"Blair," he breathed out. She looked so very pale and delicate that he wanted to burst through the car and hold her. Surely she hadn't been eating; she was skin and bones! Her dress fell over her loosely and he closed his eyes because he knew she was suffering.

"It's not fair," he said quietly. "It's not fair to her."

"When I saw my own funeral, they had to break both my legs so I wouldn't run to my children." Tersa said, emotionless and calm.

Chuck looked at her, his eyes wide. "Why are you doing this, then? Look at her! She's not well. She needs me!"

"We all do it," she said and reminded him of who was in charge by pressing the gun closer to his ribs.

"I don't care if you kill me," he said, eyes glued on Blair.

"I think she would," Tersa said.

"She already thinks I'm dead!" Chuck cried.

Tersa said nothing, but continued to watch him through her sunglasses.

Chuck watched as his world crumbled around him. He watched the entire service, saw as Eric buried his face in his hands and Serena held on to him. He saw Nate hold Blair close to him as his eyes darkened at the sight of the coffin before them.

But Chuck was entranced by Blair, who looked like she herself was slowly dying.

When it ended, Blair spoke to Serena and Nate, telling them things quietly and listening as they responded. Then something happened that made Chuck died – truly die inside. Blair took Nate's face in her hands and kissed him. She touched their foreheads together and then he enveloped her in his arms.

And Chuck Bass died then and there.

"Oh cheer up, chum," a voice to his left said. He slowly realized that Tersa was gone and she was replaced by a stunning blonde with chin-length hair and legs that went on for miles. "I'm sure the darling loves you, but how long can you really love a dead person?"

Chuck stared at her – his eyes narrowing.

"My parents named me Paula, but you will call me 27. I am the voice you heard, I'm always the voice."

"Why did you bring me here? What did I do?" Chuck's tone was low and calculating. He was calculating, after all. He had calculated more destruction than he cared to own up to. He could outsmart this bitch like he had the countless before her.

"Let us chat," she said and Chuck desperately wished to see her eyes, but she was also hiding behind sunglasses.

"Go ahead," Chuck motioned for her to begin.

"By now you realized that we have no qualms in killing you or anyone else that gets in our way. You're a smart boy and also realize that for us to be able to fake the death of a billionaire, we must have…. unlimited funds and unlimited cooperation. We know things – things what can bring down entire empires."

She took him in.

"So being the smart boy that you are and knowing what you know and having seen what you have seen, I know you will make the correct choice. We all have. Because a life like this is better than no life at all."

"You've obviously never been in love," Chuck commented, dryly.

A smile formed on her face.

"Ah, yes… poor little Blair. So thin, so lonely, so much in pain. Her love taken from her at such a young age. Left all alone… yet…." She studied Blair and his friends. "My, my, that Nathaniel Archibald is quite a dish. Such a gentleman, such a dream for any 18 year old. I wouldn't worry, with you gone and with Blair in need, it's only natural for him to comfort her. He is, after all, her first love. I'd say that she'd be very well taken care of."

Chuck didn't think, didn't process things all he could see what Blair sobbing into Nate's shoulder and they both would be naked. Bonding over his death.

He lashed out and attempt to grab 27 by the throat, but the woman's leg somehow connected with his face. His neck snapped back and he hit the window and in a loud 'thud'.

Now he realized who had hit him that night in the alley.

"Fucking bit-"

And he was out cold.

He woke a few hours later and found himself in the same room as before. He was in nothing but boxers once more, but this time with a plate of food next to him. He stood slowly, his head feeling like it was exploding, and crawled to the plate of food. He found a cold sandwich and a glass of milk. He hungrily stuffed himself with the sandwich and downed the milk. He hated milked. Always had.

This made him feel a bit better. At least his stomach didn't feel like it was eating away at his spinal cord.

"Hello?" He called out to the room. "27? Tersa?"

"Good evening, Mr. Bass."

"Get me the fuck out of here!" He banged on the wall where the door had appeared.

"The food you just ate was poisoned," the voice stated. "You have exactly 3 minutes and forty eight seconds to live."

His hand felt numb, and he looked down at it.

"What the hell is this?" He asked, eyes wild.

"The question is: what do you do now?" The voice asked. "Simply slip away and go meet your maker or take the antidote that we can offer you."

"What's the catch?" He demanded. Now both his arms were numbing and his heart was racing at an accelerated rate.

"Well the antidote does come with strings."

"Hurry up!" Chuck shouted as his legs gave out under him.

"The antidote is a contract. You take it. We let you live. You belong to us. Until the day you die."

Chuck's throat was beginning to close his breaths were coming in short spurts.

"Done." He said, even though words seemed to be so very hard to come by now.

The voice was silent as it contemplated his answer.

"I'm dead already. I even went to my own funeral and saw the love of my fucking life crumble before me! I have no fucking life, so give me the fucking antidote! It's the least you can do!"

The voice continued to be quiet.

"Please!" He cried. Sweat was pouring out of him and he felt his eyes begin to roll back.

"Done."

He dimly recalled Tersa lifting his head and pressing a vile to his mouth. But then again, that was years ago. Anything could've happened.

Stay - I could've chosen to stay
At least the world wouldn't look so gray
Here - Here is an empty room
Filled with an empty man
Who dreams of her
Whether or not I want to

--

To be continued.

A/N: this will be a 6 chap series. If you want to leave a note to let me know what you think you're welcomed to