Title: Fix You

Author: Sara and Lizzie

Rating: T

Disclaimer: Yea, we don't own GG, Chuck Bass or any of Blair's clothes.

Summary: Post 2.13. Blair is the only one who can fix Chuck, and help him separate himself from Bart. How? An international game of cat and mouse. Don't come looking for me? Please. She would chase him to the ends of the Earth. After all, she was his one and only.

Author's Note: So we still have a ton of ideas and even though the course of season 2 has changed, we will continue our rewrite.

REVIEW! (PLEASE!!!)

Just let me be, I'll be fine till the hospital or American embassy. –Fall Out Boy

The third day in Athens it happened. She knew a challenge was coming eventually; everything that had happened between them was too big and dark to be this easy. They were in a bar near her hotel, playing their usual game, making eyes at each other, each daring the other to make the first move. Any impartial observer would have thought they were complete strangers; that Chuck had been drawn to Blair's long legs in her black dress, that she had noticed his perfectly cut suit and bowtie. She sipped her drink and crossed her legs casually, knowing full well it drove him crazy.

He smiled devilishly at her and rose, scotch in hand, ready to cross the bar to her. Chuck paused as he felt the vibration of his phone in his pocket. Blair watched as he pulled out the phone, read the message and seemed to stop and shut down. She was on her feet instantly, ignoring the rules of the game now. Her hand was on his arm when she reached him and he wordlessly handed her the phone.

"Will to be read New Year's Eve day. 3PM." she read out loud. "From Lily. Chuck, I'm sorry." she told him, immediately wishing she hadn't. He jerked away from her.

"It's fine." he said shortly. "I'm taking off. I'm fucking sick of Athens." Without another word, he was storming from the bar.

Now it was three days later, and she was still sitting in her hotel room in Athens, starting to panic. She hadn't heard from him. No one had heard from him. She had made a pleading call to Lily to use her status as the widow of Bart Bass to have Chuck's credit charges disclosed, but the last charge was his tab at the bar in Athens.

"I'm so sorry, Blair." Lily had said over the phone. "I feel responsible."

"Don't." Blair had told her. "It's his father's will. He needs to know what's left to him."

That conversation had been two days ago, but now it felt like two years. The more time that slipped by, the more desperate she became. He could be anywhere, with anyone, doing anything. Visions of overdose victims from days spent watching Law and Order marathons with her father clouded her mind's eye and made it harder to think clearly. She stepped out onto her balcony and lit a cigarette, a habit she had only sort of picked up from Serena in her wild child days. The last time she had one, she was with Nate in Central Park. It felt like a lifetime ago.

As soon as the thought crossed her mind, it seemed so obvious. Nate knew Chuck better than anyone, except maybe her. She was dialing his number before she had time to inhale.

"Blair?" he asked, picking up.

"Nate." she breathed, relieved to at least have a direction. "I need your help." He should have been mad at her for all the shit she had pulled with the Countess and Vanessa, but she sounded so lost.

"Are you okay? How's it going? Blair, did something happen?" His concern was enough to cause tears to well in her eyes.

"He heard from Lily, about the will being read and he disappeared, and I have no idea where he is, or where to even start looking." she said, her voice betraying her emotion. Nate knew her well enough to know she was on the verge of tears.

"Jesus." he said, sighing. "Maybe I should fly over there. I could help you."

"I need to do this for him myself." she said. There was a pause. "Thank you." she whispered.

"Always, Blair." he promised. There was another pause as they both turned their minds over this newest phase in their ever changing relationship.

"Do you have any idea where he could be?" she asked, breaking the silence.

"God, it's Chuck. It's so unpredictable." Nate mused. "But maybe..." he trailed off, and Blair could imagine what he looked like, furrowed brow and all. "He's smart. So maybe he went somewhere obvious, thinking you would start looking in Mozambique or somewhere."

"Nathaniel Archibald, I constantly underestimate you." Blair said. It made perfect sense, and it was just so Chuck.

Nate laughed in spite of the situation. "It's about time." he said. His laughter cut off suddenly. "Amsterdam." he said.

"What?"

"He's in Amsterdam. We were there, summer after sophomore year. I'll text you the address of the place he likes."

"Oh God, thank you. Are you sure?" she asked.

"If I know Chuck Bass...." Nate trailed off again. "Blair, he's going to be in bad shape."

"I know." she said.

"He's probably...." Nate stopped without continuing this time. He didn't have the heart to tell the girl he used to say he loved that the boy she loved more than anyone had probably been with half a dozen prostitutes in the last three days.

"I know." she said, her voice steeled with familiar resolve. "I need to get him out of there."

They hung up moments later, Nate promising to text her all the information she would need, and Blair promising to call him if she needed help. She returned inside her suite and packed for Amsterdam.

She was having trouble going inside the building. She had a driver waiting outside; they weren't staying another night here. She was going to take him to Paris. She inhaled a shaky breath and marched inside, ignoring the all consuming fear in her stomach and the fact she was so terrified of finding him dead that she had bitten her nails all the way down on the way here.

Stepping inside, she saw it was worse than she thought. The smell of pot and something stronger she couldnt identify made her dizzy immediately. It was filthy, decrepit and crumbling inside. She hated the idea of Chuck here. A scantily clad woman who looked out of her mind raised an eyebrow at Blair as she stumbled down the stairs.

"Do you know Chuck Bass?" Blair asked her. She looked at her with blank eyes. Frsutrated and desperate to leave, Blair pulled out her phone and scrolled to the first available picture of Chuck. The girl pointed upstairs and put up three fingers. "Third floor?" Blair asked. Without waiting for a response, she took the stairs two at a time and burst into the first door on the third floor.

He was unconscious. His shirt was unbuttoned at the top and his things were still in bags on the floor. His phone, lying on the floor next to him, was out of battery. Blair kept her eyes on him, not wanting to think about the other bodies lying on the floor. She knelt down and shook him. "Chuck." she said. "Chuck, wake up." Her own only solace came from the fact his chest was rising and falling steadily. She shook him harder. "Chuck, now!"

His eyes opened, squinted and shut again. "Just go Waldorf. I'll be fine."

"Yea, you look fine." Blair snapped. "We're leaving."

"You're leaving. I'll stay." Chuck mumbled. "I can get to the hospital if I need to." That was all Blair needed to hear. She reach down, grabbed his arm and somehow managed to haul him to his feet. Slinging his arm around her shoulders, she forced him downstairs and outside.

"Bitch." he muttered at her as they stepped outside and the sunlight hit his face.

"Just get in the car."