DISCLAIMER: DON'T OWN THE LYRICS NOR THE SORT-OF EPIGRAPHS AT THE BEGINNING AND END. I DON'T OWN GG. If I did, I wouldn't have allowed such crappy turns in plots. I'm bitter.

Author's notes: I was watching 2.13, "O Brother, Where Bart Thou?" and my heart wrenched in angst. Plus I went back to S02 and was touched by the sweetness when Chuck was in Blair's room and she just held him as he cried. Oh god, it warranted tears. It was a beautiful moment of hurt and comfort. Love is never interesting without some angst. And this plot bunny popped in mind when I was listening to 'Hold Me', a song by Savage Garden. It just so reminded me of that scene.

This fic is especially dedicated to wrighthangal, and to the members of Gossip Girls NJBC.

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Watchet on Watch

~the attitude of a traveler who leaves everything behind and embarks on a journey

~a volatile situation

~the need to be wary of sudden disasters or hardships

*Taken from the manga "The Tarot Cafe" (Chapter 12) by Park Sang-sun

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Prologue: Flight in the Night

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"I might need you to hold me tonight
I might need you to say it's alright
I might need you to make the first stand
'Cause tonight I'm finding it hard to be your man..."

-Hold Me, sung by Savage Garden ('Affirmation' album)

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"What do you think you're doing here?" Blair demanded irritatedly as she sauntered into her room, feeling the aftereffect of anger at the rejection from her confession of the three words, eight letters earlier.

Chuck Bass sat in her bed, shoulders slumped, and he turned to look at her when she neared. His red-rimmed eyes ebbed the bitterness and scorn on Blair's part, as if the tears were slowly melting the ice wall.

Blair did not need to see his tears to know without a doubt that Chuck had wept for his father prior to arriving at her bedroom. It was witnessing Chuck's pain that brought her to tears, and not his loss. Just for that, she hated Bart all the more, because he seems to cause Chuck just more agony, even when he's gone. It's as if the misery Bart impaled upon Chuck's whole existence was the very rai·son d'être of Bart, and it would certainly engrave his ephemeral being upon the world, ensure that he was never forgotten by at least one person, even though he was a haunting memory.

As if a string pulled at her heart, compelling her, daring her to move, she rushed to his side, all hesitations and contempt shed as she embraced him, her arms like seams holding him together keep him from falling apart completely when he is so broken.

Chuck Bass never showed weakness, if he was ever vulnerable, there was a backlash to the witness; he would spite and hurt to push away and add a safe, albeit bitter, distance. Because then, he couldn't be within reach close enough to be hurt. That was what he and Blair shared in common, their defense mechanism. In their most vulnerable, they were the most spiteful and defensive.

But at that moment, all strength of pretense was drained from Chuck, and at the end of the day, he just couldn't put up a fight anymore, couldn't deny that his father was buried under earth with only a stone marker to lay claim that a Bart Bass once lived and walked upon the earth.

This intimacy in the midst of bereavement... Blair had never had a moment like this with Chuck, had never held him in such an embrace in which he leaned on her emotionally. They had always met each other head on, at times they glanced at the retreating back of the other, but Blair could not recall a time in which both had been too bare, stripped of whatever protective layer of their personality, besides the carpe diem night in the limo. Their clothes may still be on them, but it seemed that their hearts were that much closer than before.

Blair felt a wet streak upon her upper arm, and she knew that Chuck just shed a tear, and she held just a little bit tighter, as if afraid he would disappear in his fragility.

"I'm so tired, Blair," His voice was hoarse and much too low, brought about by bitter dejection. "I'm so fucking tired."

She gently rocked him as he feebly laid a hand on her arm, a gesture of an attempt to return her embrace. His limbs were too heavy, as if the burden of his heart was paralyzing his muscles.

"You can rest here with me."

Chuck weakly shook his head in protest. "I can't sleep. It's so hard."

Blair swept a hand through his hair, a gesture that comforted him. "I'll watch over you," She whispered as she placed a light kiss over his temple, her lips lingering just a second longer. Blair then gently urged him to lie on her bed, all the while not breaking her hold on him. He did not protest nor did he physically oppose her as he lay on his side, Blair behind him as she readjusted her arm to under his neck while the other arm was over his waist, holding onto his hand, their fingers entwined. Blair began to softly sing her favorite ballad to lull him to sleep, her breath a warm caress on his nape.

~Moon river, wider than a mile

I'm crossing you in style someday

You dream maker, you heartbreaker

Wherever you're going, I'm going your way

Two drifters off to see the world

There's such a lot of world to see

We're after the same rainbows end

Waiting round the band

My huckleberry friend, moon river

And me~

As if she were a siren beckoning him to sleep, his eyelids fell closed, and within her proximity, he found a somnolent solace that had eluded him since the night his father died. Calmly and surely, he drifted off to a dreamless sleep to the sound of her singing voice and the warmth of her closeness.

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Blair stirred and a sliver of consciousness awakened her completely. Becoming aware of the absence in her bed, Blair opened her eyes and sat up, catching Chuck standing over her desk.

What are you doing, Chuck?" She saw him stiffened, but he did not turn to face her. "Come back to bed and let's go back to sleep."

Chuck remained silent and tense for far too long.

"Chuck?" She called out again, this time, sliding off the bed. "What are you doing?"

He still did not turn to regard her and she did not dare to approach him. Stiffly, Chuck angled his body towards her, but his head was bowed, avoiding her.

"I was going to write you a note."

Blair tried to make light of the situation trying to uplift a corner of her mouth in jest. "A thank you note?"

"I was planning on leaving."

Blair's breath painfully caught on her throat, the tears pricked her eyes, as if her heart were pinched.

"I can't stay here anymore. I just can't." He swiftly turned his back on her, and as his voice choked at the end, Blair rushed to him and embraced from behind, pressing her cheek against his back as she tightly closed her eyes to stave off the tears. In his weakened state, he couldn't fight her off, and she was grateful that he didn't. Chuck's breaths deepened in quick successions as he struggled with his emotions that threatened to wring the tears of grief out of him.

Chuck gripped her hand, but did not attempt to pry her off. "I-I don't want to be here anymore. I want to go."

Blair fisted the material of his shirt, tightening her grip. "Then let's go."

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Dorota crept quietly towards her ward's room. Last year, she learned to be wary in approach whenever Blair and Chuck were in a room. The first and last time had been scarring, and Dorota did not know who should be more embarrassed: her for walking in on them or Blair who was caught having sex. Either way, Chuck was unhindered. And neither was Blair.

Dorota strained her hearing for any telltale sounds, and after confirming the silence, she dared to quietly knock even though she didn't want to disturb their sleep, choosing not to peek inside.

"Miss Blair?" Dorota tapped on the door a few times. No answer, so Dorota knocked again and called out her ward's name once more. She tried a few times, but she remained unsuccessful in rousing any of the inhabitants of the room. After much internal struggle, Dorota deemed it safe to go inside, deducing that both might be sleeping. She didn't know whether they had clothes on or not, but she needed to wake up Blair.

Turning the knob slowly, Dorota opened the door just an inch and peered inside the room. She frowned, and opened the door wider. She stepped in, feeling imminent in the silence of the room.

The room that was now abandoned when there were two people here just last night.

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"What is taking her so long?" Eleanor muttered to her newlywed husband as they were having breakfast.

"Maybe Blair isn't up yet, dear. The ceremony lasted very late and even though she retired earlier than the rest of us, maybe she's sleeping in because she's tired from helping to prepare a wedding in just a short span of time." Cyrus ate his muffin while trying to placate the impatience of his second wife.

"Dorota!" Eleanor called out to the maid she had sent up to fetch for Blair. Eleanor and Cyrus were leaving for their honeymoon shortly, and she wanted her daughter to see them off. "Dorota!"

Shortly after, the resounding heavy thumps of feet hurriedly descending the stairs was an announcement of Dorota's haste to answer to her employee's summons.

"Dorota," Eleanor addressed the Polish maid as she appeared huffing in the dining area of the Waldorf penthouse. "I trust that Blair is getting ready? I thought I made it clear that I want her to join me and Cyrus in our first breakfast as husband and wife."

Dorota took a few more deep breaths before approaching Eleanor from her side and leaned down to whisper something in her ear before handing her a piece of paper Dorota stuffed in the pocket of her apron.

Eleanor opened the folded paper and read the brief message written.

I'm sorry I left without word. I don't know when I'll be back, but don't worry about me. I'm with Chuck.

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"Forget the world we know. Tonight at twelve we change ourselves." -Anonymous [2]

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[1] Taken from the manga "The Tarot Cafe" (Chapter 12) by Park Sang-sun (mangaka, author/artist).

[2] From an artwork in deviantart. I don't know by who, because I just saw the picture from my sister. If anyone knows, please PM me or review to tell me the artist and the title of the artwork, and I will credit it ASAP.

A/n: Written while listening to Owl City's "Vanilla Twilight". So… is it worth reading? Should I continue? X_x =_=

I can promise you now, that the Chair I portray will stay together no matter how difficult or overbearing the tribulations thrown at them.

I need the fics to preserve Chair. JS/SS have COMPLETELY KILLED THEM. I'm so not watching s04. Fuck Paris. It doesn't mean anything anymore. I am in a state of bemoaning. And yes, I did cry for a good hour when I learned the spoilers and WAS WARNED OF THE EPIC FAILNALE. GG is going down along with JS/SS. They fucking dug their own fucking graves. Talentless asswipes should go back and take basic playwriting classes. I did not watch GG because it was a daytime soap. At this point, I just want GG to sink. Ed and Leight are better off engaging in better roles than the sorry down turn of GG.