A/N Just a one-shot.

No beta on this one, sorry if there's a lot of mistakes.

If your waiting on an update of my multi-chaptered story..it's on its way, promise :)


He thought that he had hit rock bottom when the doctor looked at him and told him that they had done everything they could, but hadn't been able to save his father's life. When his world came to a halt and he felt as is he was sinking into a deep, pitch-black ocean.

He thought that he had hit rock bottom when he walked away, without saying a word and without looking back at those he had started to consider his family. Ignored her calling out for him as he left the hospital. As he ran away.

He thought that he had hit rock bottom when he spent days alone, drank himself senseless in the solitude of his suite or in some bar – when he concentrated on nothing but the intense hatred he felt towards Lily, the world, his father, himself. As he desperately tried to ignore the hollow, aching feeling in his chest, and tried to convince himself that the feeling of being caught in slow motion was because of the drink in his hand. When her heart started to break because of him.

He thought that he had hit rock bottom when she fund him close to passed out on his bathroom floor, his shirt buttoned wrong and his shoes on the wrong foot. When he told her to get the hell out, that he didn't want her there, not able to look her in the eyes as he did.

He thought that he had hit rock bottom when he showed up to his father's funeral unable to walk or see straight. When he nearly punched Humphrey Dumpty in the face before he called his father's widow a whore, and disowned what was left of his "family" in public. As the mere word pushed him close – dangerously, impermissibly close - to loose control.

"Family? I don't have a family."

He thought that he had hit rock bottom when he told Eric once more that they weren't family. When he looked his little brother in the eyes as his words cut like a knife in the boy's already bleeding heart – as he did anything to block out the part of him that wanted to scream and fall apart.

"When are you going to get it? We are not related."

He thought that he had hit rock bottom when she ran after him and told him. When she told him those three words with tears in her beautiful eyes, her hand trembling as she held on to his, wanting nothing more than for him to take her with him as he fled. And all he did was break her heart again.

"Because I love you."

"Well, that's too bad"

He thought that he had hit rock bottom when he couldn't keep his heart together any longer, because he had learned early on not to show weakness - a Bass man doesn't show weakness, doesn't cry. When he came to her and fell apart in front of her, no longer able to muster the strength not to feel the overwhelming, heart-wrenching pain.

He thought that he had hit rock bottom when he left her in the middle of the night, and left nothing more than a note behind. When he decided that he couldn't stay, couldn't allow her to try and fix him when he knew he was beyond repair. When he knew that she couldn't fix Chuck Bass, because he wasn't him anymore.

I'm sorry for everything

You deserve much better

Don't come looking for me

He thought that he had hit rock bottom when he spent a month in Thailand. Doing everything in his might to forget, and to get lost to never be found again. Drowning himself in apathy and cheap liquor.

He thought that he had hit rock bottom when he was brought back to New York and could barely look at her - at anyone. When the hurt and the guilt only added to his darkness and made him sink deeper. When he ripped her wounds back open as he threw her words back in her face.

"Was that it, or were you going to tell me you loved me again?"

He thought that he had hit rock bottom as he stood on the ledge of a rooftop - three heartbeats away from "falling" - because that vicious voice inside of his head kept telling him that no one cared, and he just couldn't stand to be around himself any longer. When the only thing that stopped him had been that he couldn't stand the thought of hurting her more than he already had.

"Don't you understand? I'll always be here. I don't want you going anywhere. I couldn't bear it. So whatever you want to do to yourself, please don't do that to me. Please."

He thought that he had hit rock bottom when he stood her up later that week. When he stood her up only to spend his night with call girls, crystal tumblers and lines of white powder. When he literally walked all over the heart he had already broken more than once the following morning.

"Stop trying to play the wife"

He had been sure he couldn't stoop any lower after that. He had been sure that right then and there was when he hit rock bottom, when there was nothing more he could do to hurt himself more and still be breathing.

He had been wrong. He didn't hit rock bottom at some bar, at his father's funeral, in Thailand, standing six feet from the edge or when he lashed out at her during the brunch she threw for him. A part of him had known, but he couldn't believe that things could get worse, that the pain could be greater. He had been wrong.

He realized that as he stood in an elevator and asked her to forgive him, asked for one more chance. When he stood there and watched her force back her tears, and heard the tremor in her voice as she told him she was done. With no alcohol or drugs to take the edge off her words, to keep him from fully understanding how utterly and completely he had broken her. Himself. Them.

Broken them beyond repair.

"I'm sorry, but I'm done."

He didn't hit rock bottom in a crash, breaking against cold stone at the bottom of an ocean. There were no ripples in the surface and no deafening noise ringing in his ears.

He hit rock bottom - standing in an elevator - as the doors closed before him in more ways than one, and a bouquet of peonies landed by his feet with a soft, barely audible thud.


Thoughts? Reviews? Pretty please?! ;)