A/N: I just finished watching the newest episode The Grandfather, so there are some allusions to that in here. This may be a little long for the five song fic things, but that's just how it worked out, and I'm not the best at writing short pieces. Sorry. I know a lot of people have been doing the five song fic one, but I just couldn't resist. The first one can take place at anytime, really. The second is in the not so distant future, the third and fourth may seem like they're during the same time, but they don't have to be. The fourth one is more presently based. I sort of put some spoilers I heard about in it. I don't know how reliable these spoilers are, but they're in there. The last one is during their senior year of college or after college. I hope they're not all too similar. There's a lot of Nate, but again, that's just how it worked out. I might do more, so tell me if you like it.

Disclaimer: I don't own GG, because if I did, Chuck would haev just burst in there and thrown Nate off of Blair. Hah. (Although I hope he does become successful in breaking them up. It would be a major dissapointment if he didn't.)


Mama Who Bore Me

Spring Awakening

Mama who bore me
Mama who gave me
No way to handle things
Who made me so bad

Whenever her mother used to criticize her, Blair always had a way to control herself. She let the verbal barbs wound her and then she'd follow that familiar path to her bathroom. It was easy. Nate was... an idiot, to be frank. He would never notice how her hands shook and how her face was flushed. He would never notice how her make up looked more pristine whenever she exited the bathroom.

Things can change in an instant. What you thought you loved you realize was just a fondness. What you thought you hated was really just passion. What you thought was frienship was really betrayal.

When Nate was finished so was her bad habit. She didn't know why. Maybe it was that pair of dark smoldering eyes that would always follow her to the bathroom. Had they always been there before? Had they always observed but never interfered? That didn't seem possible.

It didn't seem possible that he could just... know. He was gifted with the gift of knowledge. He could read her like no one else. That was something she had never experienced before. It was alien but familar. It gave her a sense of comfort.

The next time her mother knocked her down, she had no comfort. She was completely lost. With Nate, it was easy. He would never know so she would never feel guilty. With... him... it was different. She didn't like his exotic eyes downcast in sorrow when he saw her watery eyes. She didn't like the dissapointment. But really, disappointment was just a cover for fear. Fear that she was destroying herself. Because he was good at that. He was good at hiding his feelings. As good as she was.

Blair didn't know how she got there, but walking into The Palace bar gave her a sense of security. She felt as though he were protecting her, though in reality, he was probably just banging the room service staff. She laid her purse down on the bar and was about to take a seat. If drinking away his sorrows was good enough for him, it was good enough for her.

But that wasn't what ended up happening. Like how she didn't know how she even got to be at The Palace, she didn't know how she ended up in his suite, either. But there he was, kneeling at her feet while she sat stiffly on the couch.

I didnt... I didn't know... I'm sorry was all she could muster. His slanting eyes just studied her for a moment. She didn't know why his gaze seemed to have to shake her to her core. What was he looking for? What did he see, when all she saw when she looked in the mirror was someone she couldn't even recognize?

It's okay. He took her small hand in his large one, sitting next to her. His body was angled towards hers, but all she could sit was straight. She didn't know how else to be. She didn't know how to let her gaurd down.

I'm sorry. She didn't know what she was apologizing for. Interrupting his night of boozing? Ruining his chances of getting laid? If that was the case, he was doing a really good job of hiding it. But they were experts at this sort of game. They knew how to hide their emotions well. Blair didn't want to play anymore, though. She was tired of pretending everything was all right when it wasn't.

I'm just... I'm scared she admitted, finally looking into his inviting eyes. I don't know what to do.

You don't have to do anything he whispered back. Her posture suddenly relaxed in his presence. He was right, wasn't he? Hell if she would ever admit it, but he was right. She didn't have to do anything. She didn't have to be in control right now. She would let herself spiral out of control... with him.

She felt the warmth of his lips against her temple. She knew he wasn't used to comforting women... or comforting at all. She was the exception, however. Just like he was the exception for her. She never let her gaurd down for anyone. She never let her gaurd down for anyone but him.

You're safe now. He leaned his forehead against hers as he brushed her hair back from her face.

Lying there with him, she didn't see any reason to have to control what was happening to her. She invited the chaos that was Chuck Bass because the chaos of one's personality was something she could identify with.

Months later when she realized she hadn't tried to control anything she came to one logic based fact. Her mother was to blame. Her mother was never a mother to her. She never helped her, never comforted her. But Blair didn't really need a mother. She found safety in chaos. When she realized he had done by letting her lose control, she knew that was all right. Chuck had saved her.

Because I Want You

Placebo

Fall in to you, is all i ever do
When I hit the bottle, cause I'm afraid to be alone..

Tear us in two, tear us in two, tear us in two..
Because I want you too,
because I want you too,
because I want you,
because I want you.

He thinks if he drinks down to the bottom of the bottle her face will dissapear. To his dismay, it only seems to get more distinct. She isn't even supposed to be at the bottom of his decanter. And yet, there she is.

He doesn't like how the past times he's gone to see her he was drunk. He knows that she doesn't like it either, but the truth of the matter is that is the only time he ever lets her know how he truly feels. And the truth of the matter is, he's been feeling if for the past 12 days.

"Go home, Chuck." He stands in the doorway of her off campus apartment. She says that she isn't going to live in some co-ed dorm with parties every night keeping her up. This is good enough for his queen.

He is still standing there after several moments of silence. It's late out. That sort of defeats the purpose of moving off campus so she can get some sleep. He can't find the will to care at the moment.

"Don't keep coming here," she adds. He knows he makes it awkward when he doesn't speak. It will wear her down more. Instead, he just presses past her, making sure he can feel her body against his. He hears the door close behind him but he knows that isn't the end of it. She still wants him gone. Maybe this will be the night she kicks him out for good.

"I told you I didn't want you to keep coming here," she reminds him. He can't keep away. Every night he's gotten drunk and found himself at her place. He wonders how she doesn't flunk out. Maybe it's the lateness of the hour. Maybe he'll stop coming. Maybe. But he wouldn't count on it.

"I don't want to keep hurting us," he finally says.

"There is no 'us,'" she says firmly, as though she is trying to convince herself.

"Stop," she says as he moves a little closer. He can't keep coming and not doing anything. She needs to know that he's done with this. He's done with pushing her away and the fake boyfriends. He's tired of his self pity and insecurities. He's tired of waking up wishing she were next to him.

"I can't," he husks. He wonders if she actually understood that. It sounds like a slur in his head if he ever heard one. Which he does. Every night for the past two weeks.

"You have to," she whispers urgently. "Go home, Chuck."

"I am," he says. He finds that his body is against hers and for once, she's not pushing him away.

"Stop it," she demands. He backs off, but only ever so slightly. He'll comply with anything she asks, as long as it doesn't involve never seeing her again.

"I can't, Blair," he says finally. "I just... I can't."

"Then don't," she snaps.

"I'm done hurting us," he rephrases.

"You're not," she says, finally being real. "You'll never be done. It won't be enough for you."

"I'm afraid to be without you," he says.

"You're drunk," she states.

"You've known that for the past two weeks," he slurs.

"That's not improving your case," she says diplomatically.

"It's the truth," he says, nearing her again. She tries to back away to no avail. "We'll keep crashing into each other until you see it."

"And what's that?" she asks desperately.

"Even if I keep tearing us apart, we're still together. Always have been, always will be."

"What makes you say that?" she asks quietly.

"Because after two weeks, you have yet to kick me out." He was right. No matter how drunk he got or what mess he became, she could never leave him. They could never rid themselves of each other, even if they wanted to.

"You know why, Blair," he finishes. Right again. Emotions so passionate for each other, that words for them haven't even been invented. So they will continue to crash into each other again, again. This time, they allow themselves to fall into each other. They will let themselves crash onto the bed over and over.

"Job's Eyes"

Far

"I'm sure this rain won't last.
I'm sure its time is up. Though it's pouring down,
I'm sure this rain won't last."
And it fell on Job's eyes, this water of doubt,
"And I'm wading in lies, it's wearing me out.
But if you want it, all right. I'll buy it."

Chuck narrowed his eyes at the sickening display. He thought he had enough of this last year. Pondering isn't really what he likes to do best. Plotting and scheming are what he does best, but thinking about the meaning of life isn't really his forte. But that's what he's finding himself doing. He doesn't think it's possible that something so beautiful and perfect could be so close yet out of his grasp. It's very frustrating.

Blair's deep eyes found his and he felt another wave of anger. He doesn't like the primal feeling of anger. It makes him feel as though he is completely out of control of his situation. Which he is, which makes him even more angry.

Chuck found another glass of scotch and walked away from the party with it. He couldn't look at their hands intertwined. Maybe it was karma or something, making him look at his best friend's fingers grasping her's when he thought he was too good to do it himself.

Chuck glared down at the bottom of his empty glass. Getting drunk really wouldn't help his situation even if it did make him feel better. And the only other thing that would make him feel better would be punching one Nathaniel Archibald in the face.

Again, he wasn't one for primal physical violence. There was only one primal insinct that he still held on to. But he only held that sort of passion for one person. The rest were so forgettable. And he did. As soon they were out of his bed, he couldn't even remember their faces. All he could think of was how they weren't petite or brunette. They weren't witty or scheming.

Chuck didn't want to chance going back in there just for another drink. It seemed too risky. Luckily Blair made that decision for him.

"What do you think you're doing?" she demanded from the doorway. Please. As if she had any right to complain when he made it obvious his feelings towards her. He looked back down at his glass again, willing it to refill itself. No such luck.

Blair was so close now he could almost feel the heat of her passion radiating off of her in waves. He would take her now if he could. But that just wasn't an option.

She grabbed his glass from him. He knew that she was aware that was the only way he would look at her again. It worked. He tried to make his expression as indifferent as possible.

"Don't you have a party to get back to?" he asked monotonously. Blair struck out her hip in defiance. Chuck wondered if she was going to throw his glass. That ensured that he had to go back inside for another drink. That would be inconvenient.

"Why are you being like this?" she snapped.

"It's simple," he dictated. "To begin with, you really have no right to be angry at me. But let me educate you. You get together, you get bored and then you leave." Blair looked away, blinking slightly. Chuck didn't want to think that she was actually crying. That would make this too much harder.

That wasn't how this conversation was supposed to go. He was supposed to be convincing her how much he loved her. He would supposed to be able to win her back. It was not going according to plan. He most certainly didn't want to be reminding her of when he didn't want to be her last resort. She had come back to him and he had just rejected her. He couldn't help but marvel sometimes at how idiotic he was.

"You're so convinced you know everything, what are you even doing here?" She didn't want him here. Good. That just meant he would stay longer and she knew it. She knew him.

"Do you really think you can keep like this, Blair?" he laughed bitterly. Her expression froze. He liked surprising her. It gave him an advantage. "Do you reall think you can live a life of servitude and fake smiles for the rest of your life? With an Archibald?"

"You don't know anything," she said with a quiet darkness.

"If you want to convince youself that you're happy, then fine," Chuck just shrugged. "If you want to convince me that you couldn't be happier, maybe I'll believe you." He pushed past her deciding he would face the lion's den than the ugly turn that this conversation was going.

"What makes you think I could be happier?" Blair spun around, still holding his glass. "With who? You?"

Chuck angled his body slightly so she could see the blatant expression on his face. "Obviously."

Losing My Religion

REM

Every whisper
Of every waking hour I'm
Choosing my confessions
Trying to keep an eye on you
Like a hurt lost and blinded fool
Oh no I've said too much
I set it up

"What the hell are you doing, Chuck?" Chuck raised his dark eyes to his best friend's crystal orbs. He always wondered why people asked him this question. He was sure it was pretty obvious what he was doing. He was trying to steal Dear Nathaniel's girl from right under him.

It wasn't that complex. Also, the glass in his hand was sort of a tip off to what he was doing. Being completely... well, him... was easier when he had scotch in him.

He didn't like making a complete fool out of Nathaniel, but really, he had it coming. He was the only one who knew his feelings for Blair and he just stabbed him in the back. This was war. Nate was just too dense to see that yet. But Blair sure as hell did. She definitely know the game that Nate was so dull to figure out.

"What are you doing, Chuck," she had asked softly. He had looked at her with something eyes that was unfathomable. He would have called it love but he wasn't sure if she would even believe that.

"I'm not one to roll over and play dead," he had growled softly. Her eyes had closed so long he feared that she was crying. When she opened them he didn't see a trace of sadness there.

"Why?" she had asked quietly. His eyes had narrowed. He had known what he wanted to say, but he knew now was not the time or the place. If he was certain that she would just up and leave Nate at those three words, he would have gladly said them. It was easier than fueding with his best friend again. But he knew he had to win her for good this time. He had to be better. And he would be.

"You may think you want Nate right now, but I know what you need," Chuck had responded instead. "I'll always be here." He wasn't sure about reciting the same words she had on that roof, but it seemed like a good response. "You know I'm here for you."

"Maybe that's not best," she had advised. He didn't really care. All he wanted was her. And a Bass never backs down.

"It's what I feel," he had merely shrugged. She had finally reached his gaze. He was surprised to find amusement there.

"...What?" he had asked. Blair shook her head.

"Nothing. That's just the first time you actually told me your emotions." Chuck tried not to marvel at that fact. It was true. She was already changing him for the better.

"What's it going to take?" he had asked her sincerely. She had turned away slightly, her face uncertain.

"I'll tell you when I find out," she had responded.

"That's narcissistic," he had commented. She had thrown him a smirk.

"So are you." That was true.

"So, when will I know?" he had asked.

"You'll know," she had said mischeivously.

"So I'm just supposed to wait until then?" he had demanded.

"No," Blair had admitted. "You'll do what you do. What you've always done. Everything I've said, I don't take back a word of it."

"Then what's the problem?" he had asked exasperatedly. "What are you waiting for?"

"You," she had said simply. Chuck had gripped his glass convusively at this. He didn't like waiting. But that wasn't what she was asking. She wanted him to try harder. She wanted him to fight for her. He knew what she wanted. She wanted him to prove that he cared about her the way he said he did. She wanted him to prove that he loved her. He could do that. And he would take Nathaniel down in the process.

"Chuck," she had called him back from his thoughts. "Thanks."

"For what?" he had asked.

"For keeping an eye on me," she had smirked.

"I don't need to keep you in check, Blair," he had said warningly. She had just shook her head.

"For caring," she had corrected. Chuck knew he would win this. He had to.

Chuck broke out of his reverie as Nate's blue eyes pentrated his icily. "What it looks like," he smirked and walked by him, bathing in the wake of Nate's fury. Anger was always the undoing of his opponents.

You can't let passion get in the way of a level head. That's why plotters need partners. Partners like Blair Waldorf who are exceptional at their craft. He couldn't have that, but it was just as good to be fighting for her.

Nate caught his arm and spun him around. Chuck met his angry gaze lazily. This would have been fun if it weren't for the fact that he was his best friend. (And, by the way, being a complete tool.)

Chuck knew that Nate didn't love Blair and he was sure Nate was aware of this as well. He just wasn't used to having things taken from him. Well, Chuck would make him be accustomed to the feeling. It didn't feel good.

"Don't think I didn't see you the other day, Chuck," Nate spat his name. Chuck tried to suppress a smirk to no avail. He knew Nate was watching. He had used that to his advantage. It was simple high school politics, really.

Chuck was good at the flirting thing. He was also good at the jealous thing. He had seen Nate across the room when he was talking to Blair. Really, that was all he was doing. He was just talking to her. But Nate didn't have to know that.

He knew that no one understood him like she could. It felt good to talk to her. But from Nate's point of view, that definitely wasn't what it looked like. And so what if he slipped in a few innuendos involving limos? He knew he was going to win this anyway.

Chuck had leaned in whispering huskily to her. He knew what it looked like. He had perfected it. But he always talked to Blair like that. Even before any indiscretions occured between them, he would talk to her that way, jokingly. It wasn't so joking now, but she knew he wasn't going to try anything. She just knew.

But the anger in Nate's eyes made it all worth it. It was easy to make an empty headed pretty boy like Nate jealous and angry. Everything was black and white to him. To a complex being such as Chuck, it was easy. And so what if he took the time to caress the soft skin that he had so longed for such a long time? He had to win. That's just how it was. They were meant to be so they had to end up together. That's how it worked... didn't it?

"If you have a problem with me talking to your girlfriend," Chuck said smugly, "maybe you should talk to her about it. She seemed to be enjoying herself."

Chuck pulled away from Nate then, satisfied at the slowly deteriorating relationship that his best friend had. Distrust was death to relationships. Not that Chuck had any experience in that area, but he had seen enough self destruct.

"You don't know anything," Nate said defensively. Chuck turned slowly for dramatic effect. He may seem the villian to some, but he knew in his heart that this was right. She and him were right. He wouldn't let something jeopardize that again. He didn't enjoy the prospect of losing Nate again, but eventually, Nate would would have to understand why he had to do this. Blair, on the other hand, was one thing that he could never bear to lose. It would surely kill him.

Chuck smirked. Defensiveness was a sure sign of weakness. Nate was starting to believe what Chuck always knew was true. He was going to lose.

"She'll never forgive you after what you did to her."

"Funny you should say that," Chuck mused, walking backs to Nate. "That's exactly what Serena said when Blair came back from Europe. And we all know how long Blair was mad at me after that." Nate didn't respond. He just glared angrily at Chuck.

"Let me fill in the blanks for you," Chuck suggested condescendingly. "I don't know if you recall a certain blackout, but what do you think Blair and I were doing alone in her dark room?" Chuck was dangerously close to Nate now, whispering dangerously. It was his personal understanding that yelling wasn't really necessary when you could just whisper.

Chuck underestimated Nate's anger by a longshot. He suddenly felt Nate's strong grip on his collar and he was slammed against the bar. Damn. He should have remembered last time this happened. Sometimes he paid for his arrogance.

"She will never touch you," Nate said wrathfully. Chuck felt the bar's edge grind uncomfortably into his back. This was upsetting.

"Really?" Chuck whispered venomously. "Because that's not what she said when we were..." Chuck trailed off poisonously. "...Talking."

That's when he received the first punch. It wasn't something that Chuck was unaccustomed to, but still midly upsetting, again. Especially delivered by his best friend.

He didn't think that Nate would go as far as to hit him for a third time, but he had been wrong before. Normally, Chuck didn't like to indulge in physical violence. Quite frankly, it was barbaric. And he knew exactly how Blair would react. She would yell at him and complain how long he would have a bruised face.

But Nate was compromising him and he didn't like to be compromised. He was interfering with the one thing that he loved and that just would not do. So for his dear friend Nathaniel Archibald on the physical violence front, he would make an exception.

Biko

Bloc Party

Don't you know that when you stand, you stand up for the both of us?
Remember that when the darkness looms
(You're not doing this alone)
Every tear you shed is cleansing, taking the pain away from you
I left you blueberries in the fridge, the little things that I can do

Blair felt the familiar burning behind her eyes that threatened tears. She would not let them fall. Not in front of him. Not in his condition.

"It's just karma, Blair," Nate said gently.

"Since when do you believe in karma?" Blair snapped, whirling at him. She couldn't believe he was speaking this way about his best friend.

"We all know Chuck isn't the nicest of people," Nate muttered. Blair glared at him. What the hell was his problem? He really had no right.

"Luckily for him, he doesn't have just you that 'cares' about him," Blair seethed.

"What? You 'care' about him?" Nate asked.

"Obviously more than you," Blair said with conviction. She knelt by his side, looking at him intently. Nate was obviously going to be no help, but she could do this on her own. She had done it before. She had done it on every anniversary of Bart Bass's funeral.

Blair pushed back Chuck's hair, willing him to show some signs of life in his eyes. She would give anything for him to be alright. Chuck groaned. Blair sighed in relief. At least he was coherent enough to make pained grunts. That was promising.

"Chuck," Blair said softly, sweeping his hair from his forehead. She was vaguely aware that Nate was still standing behind her. She continued not to care.

Chuck groaned again, but this time he found it in himself to open his eyes. Blair didn't cringe away from the overwhelming scent of scotch on his breath. She looked into his hazy eyes. Chuck snorted at the sight of her. At least he had his sense of humor.

He slumped against her shoulder. Blair thought she was about to fall from him weight, but steadied herself.

"What's the point?" Nate asked hopelessly. Blair narrowed her eyes, still not looking at him. She leaned Chuck carefully against the back wall before she sprang to her feet, facing off with her ex boyfriend.

"What is your problem?" Blair lashed. "He's in trouble and you're being completely... unhelpful.."

"Blair, he goes through this every year. He gets through it, he always does. You're wasting yout efforts."

"If everyone had that attitude, where do you think he would be right now?" she spat. "It's because I was there for him all those times that he's okay. Can you say the same for yourself?"

"You're hopeless, Blair," Nate simply shrugged. "How can you love someone who can never be expected to love you back?" Blair recoiled. That was how he really felt?

"What happened to you?" Blair whispered. Nate used to be the golden opportunity. Now he just seemed lost. "He's your best friend."

"We tried to help him the first time and look what happened," Nate said diplomatically. "He left you. He left us."

"Can you blame him?" Blair asked. "I don't even know what I would have done if that happened to me. What I would have done if he wouldn't be there. If any of you weren't."

"I guess that's where we differ," Nate said.

"That job is destroying you, Nate," Blair stated blatantly. She knew Nate had been pushed into politics by the Vanderbilts. He hated every minute of it but he loved his family more. It wasn't right and it was killing him.

"Too late to change that now," Nate said dully. Blair sighed. He would do anything for his family. He was wrong. He and Chuck weren't that different at all. Chuck would have done anything for his father. He would have done anything for him to be alive now.

"Some things you can change," objected Blair.

"It's hopeless, Blair," Nate switched back tot he original topic. Blair took a step back, disgusted.

"How can you even say that?" Blair asked desperately.

"He's going to drag you down," Nate said darkly.

"Leave," Blair snapped. Nate looked slightly taken aback. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Blair..." Nate warned.

"Get out," Blair uttered. Nate shrugged as he turned around. She thought she heard the vague sound of "whatever." She really couldn't care about that right now. She knew that if Chuck were actually up to it, he would do anything to save his friend. But right now, Chuck was the one who needed saving.

Blair knelt by his side again. She stroked his hair trying to wake him. She wasn't having much luck. She was totally alone. Except for him. And for some reason, that was alright.

"Chuck," she said quietly again. Chuck rolled his head to the side, eyeing her drunkenly. Blair sighed. He would be alright. As long as she got him up.

"Come on," Blair beckoned. He looked at her expectantly. She offered her hands to him. Chuck moaned. He couldn't get up. Blair wouldn't be relishing the weight she would have to carry. She probably shouldn't have shunned Nate. He could have helped her carry Chuck. She just couldn't help but be disgusted at his attitude, however. She could never leave Chuck like that. She could never find it in herself to ever leave him alone. That was the difference between her and Nate.

Blair wrapped her arm around Chuck's waist, pulling his heavy arm over her shoudlers, hoisting him to his feet. The alcoholic smell was more overpowering now, but she figured she was desensitized to it. She had Chuck in her life for too long to be bothered by it.

"Let's go," Blair urged, trying to get him to move, struggling underneath his weight. She feels his heavy head drop to her shoulder. She craned her neck to see if he was still conscious. It would make this significantly more difficult if he wasn't.

Chuck's eyes just seemed to envelope hers, an intense stare that she had gone long enough without seeing.

"Come on, Chuck," she pleaded. "Meet me half way, here." He slowly relented, trying to put one foot in front of the other. He made it significantly easier as they made it to the elevator. She was just glad that he had decided to get trashed where he had a permanent suite always ready for him at dire situations such as this.

Blair tried not to groan as she practically dropped Chuck on top of his own silk sheets. This place really hadn't changed. It was the one place that she was glad hadn't. It was the only place where she felt safe and free from the scrutiny and insecurities.

Blair was used to taking care of Chuck when he was in this condition. She couldn't help but feel partly responsible that she couldn't have been better for him. She could have been here more often to take care of him or shown that she cared more. More than cared. Irrevocably loved. School seemed like such a poor excuse when person who knew her better than he knew himself was slowly deteriorating.

Blair slid off Chuck's shoes, following the same routine that followed ever year. It was getting better, despite Nate's doubts. Chuck used to be a wreck. Slowly but surely, every year, he would get a little less drunk, a little more coherent. She hoped that one day she could see him without the haze in his eyes. Maybe someday he would forgive himself. But that wasn't today. All she could do now was make sure he was as comfortable as possible.

"Come on," Blair said again as he groaned when she tried to make him sit up again. He was, however, able to hold himself up. This wasn't as bad as it used to be four years ago. For that, she was grateful.

She gently loosened his tie and pulled it over his head. She eased off his jacket to make him more comfortable. But when she was finished he still sat up, analyzing her movements, as though he didn't understand them.

"Okay," she told him, easing him back down. "You can rest now." Usually he would have dozed off immediately. He didn't close his eyes right away this time. He just kept looking at her. She didn't want him to see her breakdown. She just gave him a slight smile and left his bedroom.

In years past, he had always been alseep when she cried. She cried for him. She cried for the endless love she felt for him. She cried for how he was hurting himself which was hurting her. But most of all, she cried because she knew she would never be able to leave him. And she didn't want to.

There was something frightening in knowing your fate from the start. But she wasn't afraid of him. She was just afraid she would wake up one day and he would have worn himself down to nothing. She knew that she would never forgive herself if that happened.

Blair didn't know how long it was until she checked back in on him. He was rolled on his side, away from her. She crept in silently and perched herself gently on the other side of his bed. This was too familiar. She had been here before.

She had comforted him when he was a wreck. She was the only one who had ever seen him like that. She was still apprehensive that she would wake up in the middle of the night to a three lined note in his distinctive scrawl of his absence.

She knew that wouldn't happen tonight, or maybe ever again. This was his house. But she still didn't want him to leave her. Though he was the one who was in need of her, she knew that she was hopelessly devoted to him. She depended on him like the air she breathed. It had been like that for awhile. Maybe even her whole life. She didn't know a world without Chuck Bass and she never wanted to.

Blair laid back on his pillow, letting the tears streak down her face. She put her back to his, hoping desperately that he wouldn't wake up. She just wanted to be close to him again.

"Hey." Blair felt warm fingers tilt her chin towards an understanding, dark face. She let herself roll to her side to face Chuck.

"Don't cry," he said softly. She could still smell the scotch but she knew he had been sobering for a while. Tonight was different than all the other nights. Tonight he had clarity.

Blair blinked furiously, trying to do what he asked.

"I don't want you to cry," he said with a strange innocence that she hadn't heard in a long time. He was still inebriated enough that he had let his gaurd down, but sober enough to... She didn't want to think it. She didn't want to think that Chuck might love her just to be crushed again. She didn't blame him. She knew that she herself was incapable of some true emotions. She wondered if Chuck understood how they were alike, how well they knew each other. She knew he did. He had said it several times.

You were just you. Don't you see? We're the same. Now stop trying to fight it.

And at the Archibald Townhouse where he told her that he knew her better than he knew himself. He asked her why she wanted to be with him then. She wished she could have told him that she loved him again. But being Blair, she had to have something to prove.

She wondered if things would have turned out differently if she had just told him the truth. But maybe they wouldn't be here, being blatantly honest with each other. Maybe he wouldn't be looking at her with that strangely familiar look in his eye. The same look she gave him every time she laid eyes on him.

Chuck reached his large hand to her face and slowly wiped away her tears. She sniffled and laughed.

"I'm not sad."

"I don't want you to cry," he repeated. She knew what he was thinking. That this was his fault. She would convince him that it wasn't. She brought her own hand to his face and delicately traced his strong cheek bone. He was a gorgeous human being. Some people just didn't see that about him.

"Do you need anything?" Blair couldn't help herself. She just felt like she should always be doing better. She always felt everything she did wasn't good enough. He didn't repsond. He just kept staring at her with that penetrating gaze of his.

Blair slid of the bed to get him something, anyway. Not alcohol, she was sure of that. She was also sure that he didn't want anything else, but she seemed like water would be here best bet in this situation. Chuck's arm shot out and caught her's at the elbow.

"Wait," he whispered. "Stay." Blair gazed at him longingly. She wasn't sure if that was what he would want in the morning. "Don't leave."

"I'm not," she reassured him. "I'm just getting you some water."

"I don't need anything," he said, his hand still clasped at her elbow.

"Chuck," she cautioned him. She knew she couldn't just leave him like that.

"Wait," he said again. "I want..." She could tell he was stalling for her to stay.

"What?" she prodded.

"I need...I need you." Blair thought she would melt into the floor right there. Chuck Bass saying that he needed her. She never thought she would here it, let alone at a time like this.

"Please," he said. "Stay with me." Blair was sure she would never seen Chuck in this position of vulnerability ever again. She didn't care. She knew he wasn't playing her. She knew this because she needed him too.

Blair walked slowly to the edge of the bed, never breaking his gaze. His hold on her arm became looser when it became apparent that she wasn't going anywhere, but still stayed in place. She crawled onto the bed next to him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. Blair laid the conforter over both of them. He leaned his forehead against her, breathing in deeply, closing his eyes.

She kissed him gently on his distinguished brow. His eyes fluttered open again at the touch. He put his hand to the side of her neck where it stayed comfortingly. He could read her so easily. He could see they needed each other same. They nestled their heads together. His easy breathing told her that he was drifting into a quiet sleep.

"Thank you," she barely heard him whisper. She let his warmth envelope her as she followed suit.