I began this story 10 months ago but just got around to finishing it now. I've been really worried about this fic because its pretty dark and didn't know how the masses would deal with it. Basically, 2x05 if you recall is a really horrible episode for Chuck and Blair. By the ep's end, Chuck is basically drinking himself into oblivion when he finds out that Dan is secretly writing a story about him after his big secret is revealed and Blair is devasted after Serena "dumps" her and tells her that she's pathetic and all that good stuff. So remember those mindsets (and possibly rewatch the ep) before reading this fic.

You're A Monster

It was one of the worst nights of Blair Waldorf's life. As if it wasn't bad enough that her (sort of) perfect Lord of a boyfriend was secretly banging his step-mom, Blair now had to deal with another load of complete shit one week later concerning (who else?) but her best friend and her mother.

Sometimes she really hated Serena—like, absolutely despised her. It's no surprise that one of Blair's worst traits is being envious; and when you're practically forced into your best friend's shadow for the better part of your adolescence, sometimes you just can't help yourself.

Blair knows that Serena doesn't hurt her intentionally…well most of the time anyways. Most of the time, she's just a dippy, leggy blonde that every girl wants to be and every guy wants to bed. She's not dumb, but she can be quite clueless—like that time she had sex with Nate on a barstool. That was pretty fucking low.

This time though, this time Serena knew what she was doing. She knew how much it would kill Blair to have her mutilate their most beloved tradition and practically steal her mother's fashion show away from her.

But of course it would never occur for Eleanor to let her only daughter model in her fashion show alongside Serena and Poppy whatsherface. No, not after that disaster last year when Eleanor practically fired Blair from her photo shoot and hired Serena behind her back. Eleanor would never risk her whole career for her chubby little daughter.

Really, none of this should come as a surprise for Blair; she knew she was overweight. She knew Serena was prettier than her and that her mother secretly loved her more. She knew it the same way she knew that no matter who she dated, he'd always cheat on her because she'd never be good enough.

Despite knowing all this, Blair still couldn't stop herself from purging that night.

Chuck's face was the first thing she saw after she threw up—though she wasn't sure why. Maybe part of her blamed him for every shitty thing that had happened to her the past couple weeks—after all, wasn't it Chuck that manipulated the whole school into making Serena queen again? Wasn't he the one who practically forced her into Marcus's arms after the way he treated her that summer? Wasn't he the one that insisted on her eating dessert with him every night that stupid week before they were supposed to go to Tuscany?

He told her she was beautiful. He was lying. She hated him.

After rinsing her mouth out with some minty mouth-wash, she straightened her blue head-band and entered her bedroom. She was just about to get into her pajamas when her bedroom door opened.

In her ideal world, it would be her mother or Serena coming in to apologize. Or maybe Marcus would be there with flowers, begging for forgiveness and a second chance.

But no, she was in hell and it was just Chuck.

Correction: a glossy-eyed, barely-walking, disheveled Chuck.

"What do you want, Bass?" she snapped with as much dignity as she could muster, despite having just purged dinner.

He stumbled over to her with a purpose to invade her personal space. She tried to push him away. He countered that action by slamming her against her bathroom door and mauling her mouth without warning.

"Umph! What are you doing?!" she spat out the moment he pulled away, although his face was still practically touching hers. Her head throbbed from where it hit the door.

Blair could taste the whiskey on his breath immediately and knew she was in trouble. Chuck was a scotch-man. He didn't bother with whiskey unless his life was unraveling at the seams. It was a rare occurrence that Chuck drank with the intention of getting anything but plastered for the fun of it.

From the look in his eyes, he wasn't having any fun.

"Tell me" he gruffed.

Blair gulped.

"Tell you what?" she asked quietly.

"Tell me you hate me" he demanded harshly.

Well, this was new.

"I…"

"Do it Blair!" he growled as he slammed his hands against the door she was pressed against.

Blair flinched as his hot breath hit her face.

"I hate you" she whispered.

He attacked her mouth again, so brutally that Blair couldn't have reciprocated even if she wanted to.

"Tell me I'm a monster" he said in the same menacing tone. He grounded his hips against hers.

Blair didn't hesitate this time. All they ever did was play games. This one may have been twisted as all hell, but it's what he needed. And in her current predicament, Blair was in no place to refuse the game.

"You're a monster" she whispered.

She saw something sparkle in Chuck's eyes. It wasn't lust and it certainly wasn't love. Never before did she ever see him look at her like that. He looked at her like he was a hungry beast and she was the only thing on the menu. It was like she wasn't a person to him anymore.

And it scared the shit out of her.

"You're a monster" she said again without thinking. Because at that moment, he really was.

Chuck growled in anger before grabbing her by the shoulders and throwing her across the room.

Still in her heels, Blair barely regained her footing before he pushed her down onto the mattress.

"You haven't seen anything yet" he told her as he pinned her arms over her head.

White fear tore through her entire being. In the past, the two of them had toyed with different power struggle situations. They liked being dominated by each other because it was always safe. Blair never felt in danger while in bed with Chuck.

That was then.

She felt her face burn as his greedy mouth attacked her body. She wanted to scream for him to stop, but her voice was lost at that moment. The only words that left her mouth were the ones he ordered her to say. She bit her lip to stop herself from crying.

"Tell me what I am" he practically begged as he groped her chest roughly.

"You're a monster" she told him with eyes closed. She would not cry. She would not cry.

The next time Chuck moved his mouth to hers and forced his tongue inside, Blair had an idea and bit down on it as hard as she could.

Chuck pulled back in shock before smiling wickedly at her.

"You're getting into this now, aren't you? My girl's kinkier than I thought" he snarled as he lifted the bottom of her dress up.

"I'm not your girl" she whispered indignantly, trying her best to squeeze her legs together.

His smile faded and he let go of her hands. For a second, Blair thought she could see the old Chuck again. But then he pulled back a hand and slapped her across the face.

"No, of course you're not. You're still Nate's girl, aren't you? After everything we've been through…"

Blair shook her head 'no.' She wasn't Nate's girl. She wasn't Marcus's girl. She wasn't anyone's girl. No one wanted her. Not even Chuck. He just wanted to hurt her. That's what tonight was all about.

"Oh yeah?" Chuck said, grabbing her right hand and bringing it in between their faces "Then why the hell do you still wear his goddamn ring on your finger like he owns you?!"

"It was a gift" she whispered in her own defense.

"It's fucking pathetic is what it is!" he yelled as he ripped the ring off her finger and flung it across her room.

"Do you actually believe that if Nate knew everything we've done together that he'd ever want you back? Huh Blair? What would your precious Nathaniel think if he knew how much you're enjoying this right now?" he asked as he reached inside her underwear and shoved a finger inside her.

Blair screamed at the invasion as tears filled her eyes.

She was completely dry.

Chuck grabbed her by the throat and Blair dimly registered the fact that he made no attempt to cut off her air supply. She wished he did. Losing consciousness was an appealing thought right about now.

"Why aren't you enjoying this Blair?" he growled "Is the mention of your previous lover drying you up like a stiff, Upper East Side housewife?"

"No" she cried, attempting to shake her head despite his hand around her neck.

"Then what?!" he yelled in her face.

"You're scaring me" she sobbed "And you're hurting me."

And just like that, he was broken out of his drunken stupor. He removed his hands from her neck and under her dress. He pushed himself up and walked to the door.

He turned around for a moment to look at her. His eyes were wide and glossy. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but then swiftly turned back and slammed the door behind him as he left.

xoxoxo

None of it made any sense to Blair. She couldn't fathom why he had come, what had caused him to snap like that and why he so desperately fed her verbal abuse to throw back at him.

She reached a hand up to her neck; the feeling of his warm fingers almost caressing her throat was seared into her mind. She wondered if he had really come to hurt her or if he just came to hurt himself. Whatever it was, she knew she needed to know for sure.

Twenty minutes later, she was entering the van der Bass suite without an invitation.

He stood by the bar, with his back to her. He didn't turn around, but the quick shift of his posture alerted Blair that he knew she was there.

He had something in his hand—a white piece of paper; he folded it back up slowly and put it back into his pocket before addressing her.

"You don't know when to give up, do you?" he said coldly.

"Why Chuck?" she asked "Why did that happen?"

He sighed heavily.

"Because you need to know what I really am" he said, pouring himself another tumbler of whiskey "It's time to get rid of your delusions and see the real me."

"That wasn't you" she told him "That was a pathetic attempt to make me hate you."

The silence in the air was thick, tangible.

"Don't you?" he asked.

"No" Blair said after a moment, crossing her arms in front of her chest "No, I don't hate you."

She should, after what he did tonight, hell—after everything he's ever done to her—she had no reason not to. But love, she knew deep down, wasn't for the rational minds.

"Then you're an idiot" he told her "I could have killed you tonight."

"I don't believe that" she said taking a hesitant step forward.

"It wouldn't have been the first time either" he said in a broken, distanced voice.

"Now you're just talking nonsense" Blair told him.

"You have no idea what I'm capable of" Chuck said, turning around to face her.

"Why are you doing this? What the hell happened to you tonight?" she cried out desperately.

"I saw myself for the first time" he said "Charlie fucking Trout" he said under his breath.

"What did you just say?" she asked as she approached him.

"It's not important. All that matters is that you stay away from me for your own good" Chuck told her, moving behind the bar in an effort to put more distance between them.

"So that's what this is about?" she asked "You trying to scare me off so I won't care about you anymore? Like I'd actually have a choice in how I felt?"

"You have no idea what I'm capable of, Blair" he repeated.

"Then tell me!" she begged, walking around to the bar so that she had him effectively cornered with no where to run.

"I can do one better than that" he said, taking out a folded piece of paper and thrusting it into her hands.

"What the hell is this?" Blair wondered out loud as her eyes ran over the black words and red ink that marred the pages.

"Dan Humphrey" he bit out. It was all he could say.

Two words in particular stuck out on the page, "Charlie Trout" Blair said, realizing what he was referring to before. "He was writing about you?"

"He was exploiting me!" he growled, though Blair could swear she heard tears in his voice "No one uses Chuck Bass."

"That doesn't seem like something Dan would—"

At the sound of his name on her lips, Chuck spun around and grabbed her by the shoulders.

"Why are you defending that piece of shit?! Are you fucking him too?!" he yelled, shaking her "Tell me!"

"God no!" Blair yelled back, hitting his arms until he let her go.

She walked to the other side of her room to put some distance between them, subconsciously rubbing her back from where it painfully dug into the bar only seconds before.

"I just don't understand, Chuck. Why were you with him in the first place?" she asked.

"Because of you!" he accused.

"Me?!" She echoed, exasperated.

"You had to go and tell me that Dan friggin Humphrey may be friendless and penniless, but oh—he has the love of his father—so he has the world! And it pissed me off just like you knew it would so I decided to fuck with him a little. I got him drunk and high and stole his shit just to prove I was better than him and that was supposed to be that. But then he came back to the bar tonight and used his little 'I'm so innocent' Brooklyn act on me until I…." he trailed off.

"Until you what Chuck?" she asked.

"Until I gave him what he needed to finish his goddamn story" he spat out, throwing his glass tumbler against the wall.

Blair flinched and looked down at the story in her hand.

"What did you tell him?" Blair asked quietly.

"I can't tell you—you can't ever know" he said, immediately regretting telling her as much as he did.

"Well I already know you're some kind of monster, don't I? Isn't that what you made me say when you were all but forcing yourself on top of me?" she challenged.

At the memory of what had occurred earlier that night, Chuck buried his face in his hands.

"It's my secret Blair" he said quietly "Aren't I allowed to have one?"

"No, not tonight. Not after what you pulled. Not if it's the reason you're acting like this. You crossed one line tonight, and now I'm forcing you to cross the other. If you don't, then I can't ever forgive you for what you tried to do" she told him.

"And what about you Waldorf? Do you have any deep, dark secrets you feel like shouting from a mountain top?"

Blair stared at him, lips thinned.

"Yeah, it's not so easy to say it out loud is it? You're nothing but a hypocrite if—"

"I have an eating disorder" she said in a clear voice, though her body was shaking. It was not the first time she admitted it, but it sure as hell was the first time she said it out loud.

Chuck's eyebrows furrowed together. Blair could have sworn she saw recognition and disgust register on his face, but it was really a combination of terror and denial.

"No you don't" he told her simply.

Blair reeled back at his comment.

"Yes, I do. I'm bulimic, Chuck, and I have been for years. I threw up my dinner right before you came over tonight…"

"No, no no! You don't Blair" he told her, his voice bordering on hysterics.

"Yes Chuck. It happens when I'm nervous or upset. Or heartbroken" she tried to explain. There was no going back now.

"Stop, stop stop! Stop saying that!" he yelled, hands over his ears.

"It's the truth!" she yelled, devastated that he wouldn't believe her. He's drunk she tried to remind herself, but it didn't help.

"NO! You don't, you can't, you're perfect" he repeated like a mantra "You're perfect."

"Okay, now you stop" she insisted, hating that he thought so low of himself, but so highly of her. It made her sick. "Of course I'm not perfect, that's kind of the whole point of having an eating disorder…"

"No! This isn't right. I'm the screw-up and you're the perfect one. You're good for me and I'm poison to you. You fix me and I hurt you—that's the way it works. Chuck and Blair, that's all we'll ever be. That's all we're supposed to be—so you can't be broken too. Then we'd be really doomed."

"Chuck have you lost your mind?"

"I'm a monster, Blair."

"Then I'm a monster too" she said quietly.

"No!" he said, pulling her towards him and hugging her tightly "I won't let that happen. I can save you—just enough so that you can move on without me."

It wasn't a comforting hug. It was actually incredibly uncomfortable how hard he squeezed her. She felt trapped in between his strong arms.

But she was not scared. She knew in this moment that she was safe.

How was it possible that Chuck could go from attempted rapist to her protector in a matter of thirty minutes? Maybe they really were doomed.

"It's too late for that. I'm just like you" she told him.

Chuck shook his head furiously.

"Why won't you tell me what's wrong, Chuck?" she whispered "Maybe I can make it better."

"I seriously doubt that" he said as he tried to let go of her.

It was Blair's turn to grab back onto him.

"Hey, who knows you better than me?" she asked.

"Face it Blair, we don't know anything about each other—except that we're both fucked up. I always thought I was worse off than you, but I guess you proved you're more messed up than I gave you credit for" he said.

"I didn't just tell you that about myself to prove anything to you! I told you because I honestly believed you wouldn't use it against me. Just like I'd never use your secret against you" she told him.

"You don't know anything about me, Blair" he said, turning his back to her.

"That's where you're wrong" she said as she lifted the ends of his dress shirt out of his pants "Truth is I know plenty about you."

"What, so now you wanna fuck? Make up your mind Waldorf, hot and cold doesn't suit you" he sneered.

"Shut up, Chuck! God, can't you just act like a human being for five seconds and not the asshole you want everyone to think you are?"

That shut him up for the time being.

Blair, taking this as her cue, slid her hands underneath his shirt and over the planes of his bare back. She felt him suck in a breath at their first (willing) skin to skin contact since before the summer. Even Blair couldn't help but sigh in relief as she moved her hands over the familiar ground. She missed what they used to have so much it left a dull ache in her heart. Marcus was gone, but Marcus wasn't Chuck. He was just a place-holder.

She rested her forehead against the back of his shoulder, desperate for the type of intimacy she had been deprived of for so long.

"I don't care what you think about me, Chuck. Or yourself. Because I do know you. I know every beauty mark" she said quietly "Every chest hair, every curve and every muscle."

"That doesn't mean anything" he whispered, his own eyes screwed shut as her delicious exploration of his back and stomach continued.

"Of course it does. It means everything. It means that you're not just some pointless fuck to me…"

"Don't forget 'amazing'."

"…like you are to all those other women. It means I've taken the time to memorize every single inch of you because I…I…"

"You what?"

"I care about you. So much" she told him "Chuck, look at me, please."

He turned around slowly and Blair caught the shimmer of tears moistening his eyes.

"I killed my mom" he said quietly.

"What?" she whispered, more confused than afraid.

"The day I was born. There were complication with the pregnancy…and they couldn't stop the bleeding. Giving birth to me literally killed her" Chuck recited as if it was a confession he had practiced many times before to deaf ears.

Blair gasped when she noticed his legs begin to give out from under him.

"Chuck!" she exclaimed as she lurched forward to support his weight on her before he hit the ground. Wrapping her arms around him tightly, Blair allowed herself to be pulled down under his overpowering size which was no match for her petite frame.

"The one person my father ever loved" he said quietly into the crook of her neck "And I took her from him. I killed her. I killed her."

"Shhhh" Blair soothed, rubbing her hands up and down his arms and back, "It's not your fault, Chuck. It's not your fault."

"How can you say that?" he asked, despite clutching to her like a life-force "I killed the only woman who ever loved me. And I'm so afraid I'm going to kill you too."

Blair blanched at his words, but tried to remain strong.

"Don't even say that" she told him quietly "You didn't kill her—you were a baby, innocent and oblivious to the world around it."

"But I'm not anymore. I'm strong now, capable. And you know I hurt you all the time…I hurt you tonight, when I ruined your cotillion, when I told Gossip Girl about us, when I abandoned you over the summer, when I couldn't tell you that I…"

"That you what?" she asked.

"That I care about you too" he said, pressing his face into her shoulder "I care about you so much it scared me."

"Why?" she whispered.

"I told you already. At the White Party. What you asked me to say…I knew I could never be the person you wanted me to be. You deserve so much more then what I can give you" he told her.

"Can you love me?" she asked quietly, lips pressed against his hair.

"I want to" he confessed "More then I've ever wanted anything. I want to, Blair. I want to."

"I want you to too" she whispered, clutching him closer.

"The only way you can ever hurt me, truly hurt me beyond repair, is if you leave me again" she told him, "I don't know who I am anymore without you. It's like I'm a shell of a person. I need you to bring me to life. You may hate yourself, but I love you."

With every sentence she spoke, the collective grip they had on each other tightened deeper and deeper to the point where they no longer appeared to be separate people.

"And I need you to love me too" she cried softly.

"I do" he spoke at last, choking on his emotions "You're everything."

Blair bent her head down until her lips brushed against the corner of his mouth. After pressing several soft, wet kisses against his face, Blair was relieved when Chuck turned his face and kissed her back.

The kiss was so different from the others they had shared that night—it was sweet, it was deep, and it was everything they were at the core, but rarely showed the world.

"I'm so sorry for what I did to you tonight" he whispered.

"Shh, I forgive you" she told him.

"I promise I'll never hurt you again" he vowed "I swear on her grave I'll never…"

"Come on" she whispered, pulling him to his feet "Let's go to bed."

"You're staying?" he asked.

"There's no where I'd rather be" she assured him as they walked towards his bedroom.

FIN.

Let me know what you think?