A/N: Yes, it is finally here. My post S3 finale CB fic based on B finding out about Chuck getting shot and then going to visit him in the hospital after she swore him from her life forever…enjoy! Lol. This is just the prologue and probably will be far too short, but I'll make it up to ya. Promise. ;)
*I own nothing
It was easy, he realized, thinking of Blair as he lie dying on the cold, dirty street of an alley in Prague. He didn't have the strength for self-pity or self-loathing. It took too much effort to dwell on what he should have done or said to her or to the two muggers who wouldn't just go with him to a bank and get the cash they so craved for. It was desperation and the fear of losing the one part of Blair he felt he would have had that drove him to act so recklessly. He had planned out the proposal so perfectly, and had a few hours of perfect bliss before it was all snatched out from under him. He was left with nothing but that ring. Nate surely hated him now, along with everyone else. That ring was all he had, proof of the life he could have had. At times he'd imagined a vision of Blair in her wedding dress twinkling up at him through the sea of diamonds on the engagement ring. From the moment he told her he loved her the summer before, he knew she was it for him. He knew even before that. He was just afraid to take that knowing leap until that warm May afternoon. Happiness now stolen away, he was right back to where he'd been just before he took little Jenny Humphrey's virginity.
It took too much energy to think of these things.
If he lived through this, he told himself, he would make sure to feel guilty but he would not resort to killing himself. Blair's words still rung through him. Please don't do that to me. He would not abandon his silent promise to listen to her plea and submit to her request.
The world around him seemed to grow incredibly blurry, when just a moment before – it felt like – he was just in shock over having actually been shot, simply because of resistance on his part. He should have known that muggers have no patience, and are just greedy for what they believe should be theirs. But he didn't think in that moment. He had lost so much. Even his charm for the ladies had waned. The women in the alley – the skanks – found him distasteful, and were disgusted by his attempts. He'd seen it. He hadn't cared either.
All the facts blurred. Everything that had been clear even in his misery dissolved into numbness and he felt the darkness taking over as he fell to the ground. Caring or not caring – there was no difference any longer. Hatred or determination – neither seemed capable to his disintegrating mind. There was nothing, and very soon he couldn't feel anything at all – not even his own physical body. All he saw was her face – her very beautiful face, angry and absolutely stunning as she swore him off for the rest of their lives.
"D-Don't say her name! Or anything else to me, ever again! This whole night didn't happen."
She was so beautiful in her tragedy, but he couldn't feel anything and soon even her face disappeared into the darkness. He was alone, and rightly so – Nate had told him so.
"You deserve to be alone."
But he couldn't think anymore. He couldn't do anything. He was motionless and his mind was gone, his ability to feel at all was gone, in every sense. Her face was gone, and so was he – immersed in complete darkness.
"Sir, sir…" someone was demanding something of him. He was not willing to give. His eyes opened and he wondered how long he'd been gone, but he was not willing to answer the man's question.
"Can you tell me your name?" the man asked. Chuck opened and closed his eyes slowly, wondered if he should take in his surroundings and discover where he was, maybe how long it'd been since he'd lost touch with reality. It felt like forever. Maybe he should have been be curious, but he wasn't.
"I didn't care if I lived or died!"
"Go to hell," he mumbled roughly about a minute later and turned his face away. The man kneeling over him cracked a smile and laughed a little to another individual in the small contained space.
"He's with us," he told him. Chuck wanted to roll his eyes. The distinct pain emanating from the left side of his gut suddenly brought him crashing back to reality and away from the annoyance the paramedic leaning over him had caused, along with the continuous blaring siren riding on the top of the vehicle. The road was bumpy, he realized. That made the pain worse and he cried out.
Both men came around him and applied more pressure, which seemed to both help and hurt at the same time. He was trying very hard to breathe but couldn't seem to be able to until an oxygen mask covered his face. His energy seeped away again, and all he could concentrate on was breathing. Then he was consumed another time.
His eyes fluttered open again in the emergency room, but he quickly closed them so there wouldn't be any more questions. He didn't want to be alive.
A/N: Hope you enjoyed. Please review. I have a feeling this story's going to be a good one. =)