"What are you doing here?"

A day. A week. A year. There no longer existed the concept of time, or a line between reality and fantasy. They were in this strange limbo where he didn't know what to do, what to say. She always threw the world as he knew it into chaos.

Her walking through his door didn't make it any better. It just made him need her more. Restless and dark, it was all he understood. Because it was the middle of the night and he hadn't slept since the sound of a single gunshot thundered through him.

"I walked."

His first instinct was to state that her response wasn't exactly an answer to his question. But it had occurred to him that she was in heels and a dress supplied by the hospital.

She had walked.

"You what?"

He eased up off the couch he had drunkenly made a home for himself since it was quite clear he was no longer desired at her bedside.

"You weren't there anymore."

"They didn't appreciate my presence ever since I threatened your doctor's job."

"I couldn't sleep," Blair announced.

"Oh." Looking at her was proving to be more difficult.

"Without you."

It was quiet and he sort of didn't care if he had imagined it. Because he was feeling the exact same thing.

"We haven't..." Chuck finally said, "done that. In a very long time."

"Just selfish pleasure for us, then." Her smile was pained and he felt it in his heart. How they had only had carnal relations without the literal meaning of sleeping with each other.

"If it's any consolation-"

"I miss it," Blair cut in, knowing exactly what he was about to say. The same thing she was thinking. "That's all."

Chuck was standing in the middle of his room, his customary glass in his hand, concerned with the fact that there really wasn't anything else to say. She just took steady steps towards him.

Her fingers wrapped around his, easing the glass from his hand before placing it on the table.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

Her voice was curious and innocent and he hated the things she did to him. He hated how her hand crept to his shirtfront, unbuttoning slowly.

He grabbed her hand.

"I want to see it," she said insistently.

"Blair," he said, his voice rough. "You've seen it."

"But you never showed it to me."

She made him vulnerable. Somehow, she made him good. She was always right. How in their most intimate moments, he never allowed himself to be vulnerable. He never showed it to anyone. They just saw it.

But instead, he reached for her own clothing. It didn't take much to show the sliver of scar tissue below her shoulder.

"Who will want me now?" she asked, her voice cracking. He hated how easily she could cry. "I'm deformed."

"You know," he said. Her eyes penetrated his but he let go of her. "I'm so sorry. For all the pain that I've caused you."

Her eyes narrowed. "For this?"

"Who else could be at fault?"

"I don't know," she answered concisely. "My back was to the door."

"But you know-"

"Yes," she answered. "I know. But all I heard that night was that you loved me. Is that not true anymore?"

"It's always true," he answered. "I'll always want you. And I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she said softly. Her hands felt for his shirt again. "Open your eyes."

They were scarred and they were ugly, but they were perfect.

"I'm deformed," he mimicked, hating her eyes on his weakest part.

"You're beautiful," she said. "If this is anyone's fault-"

"It's the filthy thief that took away from me the only thing I had left."

She let go. "Do you have it now?"

"I do," he answered. "I'm saving it."

"For the right girl?" she asked stiffly.

"For the right time," he answered. "And it's coming."

He was too addicted to her smile.

"Will you play me something?"

She was innocent and beautiful. And he would never let anything hurt her again. Even if she was asking of him the one thing he was afraid of now.

"Blair," Chuck said warningly.

"I know you can," she teased. "Even if no one else does."

He sighed. But he took her hand, leading her to the piano.

"Only for you," he said as they sat themselves at the bench. "I've only ever done this for you."

He rested his fingers on the keys.

"I can't sleep either," he confessed quietly before starting.

He heard her voice beneath the music.

"I know."

She leaned her head against his shoulder as they made music together again.

a.n. The end of this short-ish journey. Thanks to everyone, my beta comewhatmay.x and the Whedonverse for inspiration to put words to the GG-verse's mouths.