A/N: The end to a fic I started months ago merely on a whim. I hope all of you have enjoyed the ride and here is the end to the angst that poor future CB went through just to be together.
Summary: She looked up into his eyes and he smiled. It wasn't the smile of relief or of that innocence they seemed to be emulating for weeks. It was of the familiar lewd scan of her body that made her feel beautiful for the first time in four years.
Disclaimer: None is mine save for the victorious Blaine and He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named because everyone hates him and is glad he's in prison. Everyone should thank comewhatmay.x and worship the ground she walks on because this fic would not have been possible without her. Despite my doubts, she approved this epilogue and the end to a fic I started oh so long ago. I seriously encourage anyone who is interested to go listen to the song Doll Parts by Hole. It's great and is the inspiration for the title and lyrics belong to them as well.
Yeah, they really want you, they really want you, they really do
Yeah, they really want you, they really want you, but I do too
She felt his eyes on her. Cautious and probing, it was a sort of habit that he had picked up. He never stopped watching her, never stopped observing her like he was still afraid for her. She didn't want him to be afraid when she still felt so weak.
But she looked up into his eyes and he smiled. It wasn't the smile of relief or of that innocence they seemed to be emulating for weeks. It was of the familiar lewd scan of her body that made her feel beautiful for the first time in four years.
Chuck slid his arms around her waist, enjoying the way her arms encircled his neck. He caressed the silk texture of her dress as they revolved slightly to the quiet music floating into the villa from the Tuscan street outside. Blair leaned her head against his shoulder and he could finally smell her, touch her, and taste her without worrying that he would be excommunicated the next day.
"I have something for you," Chuck said quietly into her hair. Blair looked up, and she had that almost innocent excitement at being given a gift.
Chuck put his hands to her waist, turning her to sit down in front of a mirror.
"Close your eyes."
Blair looked at him suspiciously this time, but did what he requested of her. It wasn't until she felt the cool chain around her neck did her eyes flutter open.
"When they wouldn't let me see you," Chuck said, on his knees as he clasped the necklace around her neck, "I had to do anything to keep my mind off of it. I went to Tiffany's and had the clasp repaired."
Blair fingered the cold plating that lay against her sternum, where it belonged. Chuck placed a kiss against her hair, reminding her of tears shed at weddings for the help, but this time, loving Chuck too much wasn't a bad thing.
"I wish it was enough."
Blaine was sleeping in the corner. Blair gazed at him, unable to look at who was actually speaking to her. She was aware of the wires plugging her into machines, and she was done with looking weak. She was done with it all. And even so, Chuck still spoke to her.
His voice was soft, almost beseeching, and it was only a moment before Blair had to look back to him.
"It is," she finally insisted. "I'm fine."
But looking into Chuck's eyes, she almost wished that she hadn't. They were hard and angry, even though she knew it wasn't anger directed at her.
"Four times, Blair," he said darkly, glaring at his clasped hands lying on the bed. "He got that thing in you four times before I could stop him. And all because of me."
Blair took his hands firmly in hers, and for the first time, she wasn't wary of what she looked like.
"What?" Chuck snapped, pulling his hands away. She ignored the hurt blooming in her chest. "We both know that this is my fault."
"First you're saying how I should have left him for you and now you're blaming yourself," Blair snapped back. She would never let Chuck Bass get the better of her, no matter how much wrath he projected.
"I know you were fighting about me."
But this time Blair had to laugh.
"Your ego knows no bounds."
Because she loved him.
It was a strange feeling. They were in a foreign country; the only sounds were of harsh panting and their bodies sliding together. But they were together. It was the first time in almost half a decade that Blair had actually been with him and had not been afraid that her life could end the next moment.
The summer air was thick, and even as they were finished, he didn't stop looking at her. She shifted uncomfortably beneath his weight but that only made him kiss her neck sweetly. His hand slid from her shoulder to her chest, where four dashes of scarring were that would never go away. She knew that look in his eyes. She knew that dark brooding look, and so she kissed him fiercely, trying to remind him that she was here.
"We match now," she whispered. He was brought back to reality, his brow furrowed. She brought her own hand down to his hip, where his own scar marred his flesh.
"Don't talk like that," he said. "Don't talk like this is some sort of game."
"Do you regret it?"
He could tell she was getting angry with him as she started pushing him off of her.
"Regret what?" he asked threateningly.
"You know what," Blair answered, as Chuck begrudgingly let her up.
"Don't," he said, causing her to look back.
"I was just thinking," Blair answered. "Maybe you're really not ready to be a father. Because if you're not, tell me now. Blaine doesn't need another father like that."
"Another father like what?" Chuck asked. "I would never do that to him and you know it."
Blair's eyes were dark and he knew the only way he could redeem himself was actually explaining how he felt.
"You could have slipped away so easily," Chuck said quietly. "Those first few hours when they brought you in. And then..."
She understood. And then there would be nothing. For either of them. Blair drew him into her, her hand clasping at the back of his neck.
His arms surrounded her waist and they were lying horizontal again.
"We're in a lot of trouble," Blair smiled, "aren't we?"
"Only the best kind."
"What else could it have been?"
Blair looked towards Blaine's sleeping form at Chuck's scornful voice, but he just kept sleeping soundly.
"He knew that I loved you," Chuck continued. "He knew I was a threat. So he tried to kill you."
Blair raised her eyebrows at him incredulously.
"That's the problem you're having with this scenario?" Chuck asked, only the slightest of humor lighting his voice.
"Loved?" Blair stressed again. If there was any chance that Chuck didn't want her, now that she wasn't unattainable any longer, she didn't know what she would do.
"Love," Chuck said in the most genuine tone she had ever heard. "You know that I'll never stop loving you."
Blair leaned back in her bed, completely aware of her unflattering dress under the florescent lights but Chuck seemed to refuse to look away from her. She felt so scrutinized and very aware of the bandages wrapped around her like a sash.
"I wish..." Blair sighed.
"What?" Chuck leaned forward in his chair, lacing his fingers through hers.
He still wasn't looking away.
"I wish that I wasn't so mangled," Blair finally exhaled. He was smiling at her and she had to look at their interlocked hands to distract herself.
"Four times," Blair said coldly. "You said it yourself."
The hospital bed dipped and she knew she would be alright. She accommodated Chuck's body, feeling finally safe, now that his arms were wrapped around her again.
"You're beautiful," he repeated softly into her ear.
She looked up and realized that maybe him being so close wasn't the greatest idea. He was complimenting her and it was the first day she wasn't completely drugged on painkillers. But his lips on hers was the best kind of drug.
Her breathing had evened out, the blankets of the bed now twisted around their ankles. In that moment, even though he knew how much trouble they would be in when they returned home, he also knew that everything was finally going to be alright. That maybe all of this had been for something. Though it had been hard and painful, they were tangled in each other like they were always supposed to be.
Her hair was sprawled across the pillow, all wild curls like when they had been teenagers. Like when they had to sneak around, feeling things they could never acknowledge.
And ten years later, they were still like that. But now, they could finally be public, even if it would cause consequences. This time, it was consequences they were at last mature enough to face.
"We have to go home soon."
Her tone was wistful, and her pulled her closer, smelling her perfumed hair.
"We can stay for a little while longer," he replied.
"The longer we stay..."
"I know," Chuck answered. "But someday I'm going to make it right."
"Nothing feels wrong about this," Blair said quietly.
"Your mother would disagree."
"Chuck," Blair chastised gently but that was because they both knew the reality of it.
"There's a reason we're in Italy and not New York," he reminded her.
"I'm glad," she said. "I like being alone here with you."
"We have to go home soon."
"Let's stay a little while longer," she answered. She liked the way his fingers traced circles lightly on her bare shoulder. He kissed her and she could feel his smirk molding against her lips.
"I'm going to make it right," he finally said. "You're going to get the proper society wedding you deserve."
Blair followed his gaze, towards her white, silk dress that was still pooled in the middle of the room.
"I liked this one," she answered, twirling the ring around her fourth finger. "Whether it was in Tuscany or New York."
"Your mother would never have allowed it," Chuck answered. "You know that."
"I liked this one," she repeated, slowly sinking into his warm embrace. "I feel like I can breathe now."
"I've wanted to marry you since I was nineteen," he said.
"I wanted to say yes," she replied.
"And you can tell me that you love me too, you know. He isn't around anymore."
"I love you too."
Chuck leaned against the doorway, watching the son of his wife drift off into slumber. He didn't need to confer with Blair to know that it was the first time that Blaine had really gotten any sleep. Chuck remembered that in his grief of his father's passing, how sleep had evaded him. He remembered sitting in a Park Avenue penthouse with a beautiful girl striding in, wearing a white, silk dress.
It had been the first time he had slept in a week.
All with her small body curled around him.
Chuck closed the door quietly behind him, heading to the bedroom. Her form was petite, breathing evenly in her own slumber. Chuck crawled in next to her, surrounding her with his arms. She stirred soundly, turning in his arms with a sigh.
"I missed you."
He smiled to himself, kissing her deeply.
They both settled into the covers, her breathing starting to lull him to sleep.
"Is everything alright?" she asked.
"Everything is perfect."
He trailed his hand up her collarbone to feel the familiar chain beneath his fingers. He felt her fingers interlock with his, and for the first time in four years, he found that he was also able to find sleep, relieved that he had his family with him.