Title: Like It Wasn't There At All

Author: Diamondinsanity/ Karmawiccan

Disclaimer: The only thing I own is my car and this laptop. I sure as hell don't own Gossip Girl or the rights to any of Death Cab for Cutie's songs…

Rating: PG-13/T (only for two naughty words thrown in. Otherwise it'd be PG/K+)

Pairing: Chuck/Blair

Word Count: 3061

Spoilers/Timeline: Set during "O Brother Where Bart Thou" of course.

Dedication: To my muse LameJanie who requested a fiction based off the song Title and Registration by Death Cab for Cutie set in Blair's POV. I hope you like it.

Summary: It's hard to get ready for your mother's wedding when your heart had been broken. It's even harder to stay at your mother's wedding when the man you're in love with crashes it. It's almost impossible to know that he was right; it was too bad she was in love with him…

xoxo

The glove compartment isn't accurately named
And everybody knows it.
So I'm proposing a swift orderly change.

"I'm happy for her. I'm happy for her. I'm happy for her." Blair repeated the mantra over and over in her head as she put her makeup on. "I'm happy for her. I'm happy for her." The words flowed from her lips as she did her foundation. They continued as she as she swirled on her powder, bronzer and blush, and as she curled her eyelashes. They even spilled out as she applied her lipstick. "I'm happy for her."

The words changed as she began doing her hair. "I like Cyrus. He makes my mother happy. He makes my mother happy." She brushed out her hair. "He makes my mother happy." The words continued out as she straightened her hair. "He makes my mother happy. He makes my mother happy."

She paused halfway through her hair, realizing that she had somehow started crying while she'd been doing her hair. Sighing, she put her straightener down, and redid her foundation. Try as she might not to think, she found herself muttering, "His father just died. His father just died. His father just died. He didn't mean what he said. His father just died." She dabbed lightly at her eyes, grateful she'd applied waterproof mascara. "He didn't mean what he said. His father just died."

When her makeup was reapplied, she finished straightening her hair. "He just needs time. Cyrus is right. He just needs time. He just needs time." She repeated as she curled the bottoms of her hair. "He just needs time." With each twist of her straightener, she reassured herself that Chuck only needed time. It didn't stop the tears that flowed down her cheeks again.

"Mother Chucker…" She mumbled under her breath as she reapplied her makeup for the second time. A small and strange sounding laugh escaped her lips when she realized that she had been talking out loud. All this time she'd thought she'd been thinking everything. It was strange for her to talk about Chuck out loud, let alone to call him by one of his names right now. He was in mourning and she was calling him a 'mother chucker' She felt like a bitch.

The tears started again, and she sat at her vanity, allowing herself to cry. Tears for Bart's death; tears for the loss of the boy Chuck used to be; and tears for the death of their relationship.

Cause behind its door there's nothing to keep my fingers warm
And all I find are souvenirs from better times
Before the gleam of your taillights fading east
To find yourself a better life.

Once she was certain she was done crying for awhile, she washed her face and started all over with her makeup. She took a calming breath and this time refused to let any sort of mantra past her lips. When her makeup was finally done, she moved to her dresser to see if she had any jewelry for the occasion. After all, it was her mother's wedding. She had to look her very best.

She opened her top drawer, her treasure drawer as she had called it when she was younger, and began looking inside. That was when she found the box. Sighing, she carefully lifted the black box out and carried it to the bed. Slowly she lowered herself onto the bed and opened the box, staring blankly at the necklace. Her breath caught in her throat and she instinctively glanced up in the mirror.

A part of her was hoping that if she glanced up in the mirror he'd suddenly be sitting next to her on the bed. She was hoping that he would press his lips to her shoulder again and call her beautiful. All she wanted was the boy that had bought her a thirty thousand dollar necklace simply because he had butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

She missed that boy more than she'd ever admit out loud, but he too had died. He had died the second Lily found them on the dance floor. Seeing the tears in his stepmother's eyes, he'd already known what happened before she said it out loud. He'd left the dance before anyone could even tell him what he already knew.

Stupidly, Blair had followed him out onto the street that night. When she asked him where he was going, he snapped, "To identify the body." Not knowing how to react to that, she'd continued following him. All she'd gotten out of that was his hand around her neck and her body pressed against the wall. He gave her the darkest look she'd ever seen, and hissed out, "Stop following me. You're not my girlfriend, Blair. I'm not bringing you down with me. Go find Nathaniel."

After he'd let go of her, she'd sat on the sidewalk for a long while just letting herself cry. It amazed her how much she'd cried this past week. And she wasn't even the one who had lost someone. Well… Not in the literal sense at least. Chuck was still alive, which was better than nothing she supposed. Even if he wouldn't let her in, at least she could still see him and know he hadn't died, yet.

Slowly she closed the box, shocking herself when she realized that she wasn't crying any more. She supposed she was finally running out of tears. That would be nice. She was sick of crying over Chuck Bass, and yet she would rather cry over him and at least listen to him yell at her, than be completely shut out of his life.

"Blair?" Serena's voice cut into her thoughts. "What are you doing?"

She forced a calming breath before looking up at her best friend. "Waiting for you to help me get into my dress, of course." Trying to look strong in front of Serena, she put the box away without a second thought and didn't explain at all what she'd been doing. "You're late." She snapped, pretending to be her normal self.

I was searching for some legal document
As the rain beat down on the hood
When I stumbled upon pictures I tried to forget
And that's how this idea was drilled into my head

As she stood up by her mother, watching her marry the person she loved, Blair couldn't help but to be jealous of her mother. It was so easy for her. Her only problem was that Cyrus loved her too much and one kiss was never enough. While she so desperately fought for her happy ending, her mother was finally getting hers. It was depressing really.

The tears suddenly started sliding down her cheeks again, but this time no one thought anything about it. After all, it was her mother's wedding. She was allowed to be happy. With all the joy and love filling the room, no one assumed she was crying tears of the love she'd lost with Chuck. No one would probably even understand. It was Chuck Bass after all.

To say she was surprised when Dorota suddenly whispered in her ear that "Mister Chuck" was in her room would be putting it mildly. Blair couldn't figure out what would bring him here. He had made it perfectly clear that she wasn't his girlfriend, and he didn't want her taking care of him in his time of need. And yet apparently he was in her room waiting for her. She wasn't exactly sure what to make of it or rather what to make of him…

Even though she was still mad for all the tears he'd made her cry that day, she still climbed the stairs and slipped into her room, not wanting any one, especially Serena, to know where she'd gone. When she saw him sitting on her bed, his back to her, she suddenly had a flash of simpler times. Memories of him pulling at her blankets and saying pervy things like, "So this is your bed, huh?" There was that great memory of them making out and him telling her that she'd look like an accessory on anyone but him. Memories of him on top of her and pressing his lips to hers as she lay beneath him in only skimpy lingerie. Memories of happier times.

She was so caught up in the good memories that she forgot for a moment exactly what was going on with them; with what his response to her proclamation of love had been. The memories had her pulled into a different world so much that she'd allowed herself to snap out, "What are you doing here, Chuck?"

Then she saw his face. He looked so broken, and fragile. It was like nothing she'd ever seen before. This wasn't the Chuck Bass that had yelled at her yesterday. This was a completely different man; an even more broken man. Before she could even register what she was doing, she was on her bed, and he was in her arms. Just like that, she was finally allowed into Chuck's new world.

It was a step forward into what they could be if he'd only let her be there for him.

Cause it's too important
To stay the way it's been

Blair couldn't tell if they'd been in there for minutes or hours. They didn't speak. The only sound that echoed through the room was the occasional anguished moan that would escape Chuck's lips. Not that it a constant sound. Even though he'd opened himself up to her by allowing her to see him in his greatest moment of weakness, he refused to open himself up completely. He was crying, but it was like he didn't want her to hear him cry. Not that it should matter. She could feel his tears burning paths into her flesh.

When her bedroom door suddenly started to open, Blair instinctively shielded Chuck from the visitor, not wanting anyone else to see him like this. "Go the fuck away." She snapped out, sounding more like Chuck than herself. It was like Chuck was speaking through her; like they were suddenly the same person; one soul in two halves.

Whoever it was listened to Blair's Chucklike command and shut the door without coming into Blair's private little world with Chuck. When she was certain they weren't coming back, she slowly shifted them so that Chuck was lying on her bed, his head resting on her pillow like it belonged there. "It's okay." She murmured soothingly when he started to protest by attempting to sit back up. Instead of saying adding onto that statement, she merely lay next to him, resting her arm over his stomach as if to tell him that she wasn't going any where. Immediately he lay back against her pillow again, his hand instinctively grabbing at her arm.

The room was silent for a long while; even Chuck's anguished moans were absent now. Blair thought that he'd finally fallen asleep, which would be good for him. She wasn't certain if he'd actually slept since the night of the ball. Slowly she leaned up on her elbows to see if he was sleeping.

He wasn't. He was staring blankly at her wall as if he really wasn't aware of where he was. Or at least Blair would have thought that if his body hadn't tensed when he felt her watching him. "Say it again." He suddenly requested his voice harsh from all the crying.

Not quite understanding what he was asking of her, she pushed herself up further, studying him more carefully now. "Say what again, Chuck?" Her voice was tenderer than she would like for it to be. Maybe Nate was right and she really was becoming maternal.

His voice was so soft now that she wasn't even certain what he'd said. It took her a moment for what he said to finally register, and when it registered, she was convinced that she'd heard him wrong. But he repeated it again. "Three words." He rasped out slightly louder this time. "Eight letters." He continued staring at the wall. "I'm yours."

Shock rushed through her as she stared down at his broken form. That was why he'd come here tonight? To feel loved? She blinked at him, realizing that he needed this. He needed her, and was admitting it for the first time.

"I love you." She said as she brushed her fingers through his hair, smiling slightly when his eyes actually closed at the contact. "I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you." She repeated slowly over and over again, this mantra feeling much different than the ones she'd repeated earlier that day. But the tears still slid down her cheeks as the three sacred words poured effortlessly from her lips.

She didn't stop repeating them until she was certain that he'd fallen asleep. When that happened, she carefully slipped out of his embrace, and moved out of her room. She could still hear the celebration going on downstairs. It seemed so wrong to have a celebration when the love of her life was breaking into a million tiny pieces.

Not wanting to hear the sounds of joy for too long, she quickly found Dorota, and whispered to her not to allow anyone in her room for the rest of the evening. She'd been expecting Dorota to notice that Chuck hadn't left yet and to give her a warning from God. Instead Dorota merely shot her a sympathetic look and whispered, "Take good care of Mister Chuck." A lump built in her throat and Blair slowly nodded at Dorota, not knowing what to say to that.

When she made it back to her room, she closed and locked her door before turning out her lights and climbing back onto the bed with Chuck. "Blair?" He rasped out sleepily as the bed shifted beneath her weight.

"It's okay, baby." She whispered out as she lay next to him, her arm automatically going to its rightful place over his stomach. The pet name had surprised her, and she hoped Chuck was still asleep and wouldn't remember this part in the morning. "I'm not going anywhere. Go back to sleep." When she didn't feel him put his head back down on her pillow, she added, "I love you." That did the trick, and he relaxed again, his hand snaking around her arm again. She felt like an over-sized stuff animal as he clung to her in his sleep.

The sounds of celebration had long since faded from downstairs when she finally felt like he didn't need her hovering over him any more. His breathing was normal, and he hadn't woken up again. She wondered yet again when the last time he'd slept had been. That was the last thought in her mind as she allowed herself to lay her head down next to his and fell asleep.

There's no blame for how our love did slowly fade
And now that it's gone it's like it wasn't there at all
And here I rest where disappointment and regret collide
Lying awake at night

Her eyes weren't even open yet when she realized that something was completely and utterly wrong. Damn her new maternal instincts! It was like she suddenly had a "Chuck Radar". She knew before she even looked over that he was gone, but she had to do it to make sure all this had been real and not some cruel dream.

When he wasn't there like she had assumed Blair felt like someone had stuck a knife into her chest and was turning it slowly. It was suddenly hard to breathe and her fingers clutched helplessly at the pillow that still reeked of him. The world was spinning and Blair didn't know what to do. Everything seemed to be falling into perfect place last night. They fit together just like they were supposed to. She was taking care of him so naturally. It had even felt naturally to repeat her love to him.

A sob racked her body as she reached for the piece of paper that was on the pillow where his head should have been. His pillow.

The words twisted the knife even further into her heart, and her sobs became louder and louder. She clutched helplessly at the note, feeling it crumple in her hands. It suddenly explained everything. He didn't feel like he deserved her loved; he refused to love her and to be with her because he didn't think that he deserved her love. The tears poured down her face as she hugged his pillow to her chest now. Her sobs racked through her body, and it took her a couple of moments to realize that the inhuman sounding moan had been her.

"Blair?" Her mother's voice was barely audible, even though her face was right next to Blair's.

Not knowing how to do anything other than cry right now, she merely thrust the note at her mother before tightening her grip on Chuck's pillow. She buried her face in the fabric as she inhaled his scent, not caring that it smelled more like scotch than him. It was still a uniquely Chuck scent. It felt like this was all she had left of him.

Her mother's arms suddenly wrapped around her as Blair tried to figure out when during the night her love hadn't been enough to keep him here. She wanted so desperately to know when it had changed from her love being the thing that was helping him to her love being the thing that was hurting him. It would haunt her for days afterwards.

As her mother began to rock her in her arms as an attempt to get her to calm down, Blair couldn't help but to know that she wouldn't be sleeping for a long while after this. She also knew that she wouldn't be allowing Dorota to wash her bed linens for a while. Even when his scent faded away as quickly as he had.

There's no blame for how our love did slowly fade
And now that it's gone it's like it wasn't there at all
And here I rest where disappointment and regret collide
Lying awake at night (up all night)
When I'm lying awake at night.