Sunday Night: Moving On

"Save yourself" Blair says out-loud to her reflection "Save. Yourself."

If she had the will power, she would rip the mirror off her bathroom wall and shatter it into a million pieces.

She has been standing in the same place since she got home that afternoon, unable to move or do anything productive.

"What's wrong with you?" she asks herself.

Not him, no-her. She's trying to figure how what's wrong with her. What is so repulsive, so vulgar, so unseemly that not even Chuck Bass can stand the sight of her.

No matter what Blair does or how hard she tries-she just can't seem to get anyone to stay with her. She get's left behind and traded up for leggy blondes, male models, slutty step-moms and fine liquor.

And she's damn tired of it.

She's standing by the toilet and she know she can do it. It-she can gain control by losing it, just like he said she's done and know she will again-and though the temptation is there, Blair knows now (somehow) that forcing herself to throw up won't solve a damn thing.

Some people say Blair Waldorf is selfish and she is. She taught herself to be selfish because she knew that if she didn't look out for her best interest, no one else was going to do it for her.

Some also say she's greedy. That's true too. She takes whatever she's given and clings to it like a vice because she knows how easily things (and people) can be taken away from her.

And loneliness has always been her biggest fear.

They also say she's a bitch-let them. Let them think she's unbreakable, constant, unwavering. Let them think whatever they want as long as they don't know the truth-how weak she really is.

Somewhere along the way, Blair forgot about her own best interest and managed to let Chuck slither his way into her heart. And now, she's all about him-always.

So when he looks her dead in the eye and tells her to go save herself, what he was really doing was telling her to go fuck off-because nothing could ever hurt her more than being dismissed by someone she loves.

But Blair will not be broken. Not again. Not anymore.

"Dorota" she calls as she exists her bathroom "go get the bread, we're going to the park."

xoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Chief Executive Officer.

Chuck Bartholomew Bass.

CEO. CBB.

The initials don't add up and neither does his father's letter.

And yet somehow, Chuck has it in his hands-an actual letter, hand-written and signed by deceased daddy-dearest himself.

"This isn't me. This makes no sense" he mumbles.

It's all he's said since Blair left. First he told the other patrons at the bar, then he moved on to telling the bartender, and then a little while later the security escort bringing him back to his room got the same mantra.

This makes no sense.

Nothing as of late in his life has made sense. He couldn't contemplate his father's untimely death or why after never knowing his mother, he would lose his father on the brink of making amends.

And then there's Blair. Blair loving him and seeking him out and making love to him...until he pushed her away.

"Why did I do it?" he rasps out loud to an empty suite, stretching himself out on his unmade bed that still smelled like their morning activities.

Being with Blair in any sense of the world was never supposed to make sense-what happened in his limo so many moons ago was just supposed to be a freak accident. Blair accidentally kissed him once, then twice, and then she was on top of him and he was inside of her. All an accident.

Blair loving him even slightly didn't make sense.

And yet, somehow...

"But I fucking love you"

Her words blare in his head like the worst kind of hangover.

Blare. Blair.

"Blair" he groans, rolling to press his face into the pillow that smells like her hair "Fuck, I'm such a fuck-up."

He repeats these muffled words into the pillow until there's only one thing left for him to say.

Save me.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

"Ducks are dependable" Blair states, tossing stale bread at her feet "They aren't afraid to admit they need your help or take what you so selflessly offer them when they need it."

Dorota is sitting on the bench some twenty feet behind Blair, guarding her personal effects as she watches Blair meticulously feed every duck in sight.

"They are strong enough to know it's okay to not be brave all the time. It's okay to be afraid as long as you own up to it" Blair continues, progressively using more force with each snap of her wrist-to the point that she's almost pelting the bread bits at the ducks.

Dorota momentarily considers interjecting on the innocent animals behalves before she feels Blair's purse vibrate the bench she's sitting on.

"Miss Blair, phone for you!" Dorota calls as she begins to rifle through the Birkin bag.

"Who is it?" Blair asks, never wavering from her job at hand "And don't you dare say Mister-"

"Mister Chuck" Dorota reports sadly "I'm sorry Miss Blair."

Then Dorota holds out the phone to her as if Blair is even going to entertain the idea of talking to him.

"Unless you plan on using that phone as a hand weight, I suggest you put it down, Dorota" Blair tells her as she turns back around "You arm may get tired."

"Whatever Mister Chuck did, must be very bad for Miss Blair to let go to voicemail" Dorota points out.

"That coward is too much of a coward to leave a message" Blair tells her.

Just then, a jolly noise came from Blair's phone.

"New voicemail, Miss Blair" Dorota says "Maybe you are wrong."

Blair shrugs as if she couldn't care less.

"It's probably just some drunken ramble that's not worth listening to" Blair says, despite holding out her hand expectantly.

Dorota frowns at the gesture.

"Well?" Blair asks "I'm not getting any younger here."

With eyes bulging, Dorota hops up and runs the phone over to Blair.

As casually as possible, Blair dials her voicemail number and brings the phone to her ear.

She tries to ignore the sound of her heart pounding in her ears as the automated voice tells her to dial her four number password.

0-5-1-9

"Mother-chucker" she whispers into the receiver.

"Blair? I'm not surprised you didn't pick up-I wouldn't have picked up. I mean, I was an asshole to you and you didn't deserve it. I'm just...it's scary to be all alone, you know? I've always felt alone but now Bart's really gone and it's just...it's just a matter of time before I lose you too. And I don't want you hurt, so I tried to cut you loose...and now I'm just a coward on a rooftop looking down on a city that doesn't belong to me anymore. And I just-END OF NEW MESSAGE."

Dorota's eyes don't leave Blair's face as dread slowly passes over her features.

"Miss Blair?" she asks.

"He's on a roof" Blair tells her "I think he's...I don't..."

Dorota's bulging eyes are hanging on her every word.

"What is it?" she asks.

"I know where he is" Blair says definitively, handing Dorota the bread bag.

She starts to walk away until Dorota calls out to her, asking her where she is going.

"To save him" Blair calls back "once and for all."

xoxoxoxoxo

"Please don't be too late" she whispers to herself over and over again as she runs up the stairs to Victrola's roof access.

She's been replaying the image of a depressed Chuck in her head, standing on the edge, contemplating jumping...but that wasn't an option.

Being too late wasn't an option.

"Chuck" she yells as she pushes the heavy metal door open.

Much to her relief, she finds that Chuck isn't standing on the edge at all-he's merely leaning against it, looking out onto the horizon.

He turns around at the sound of his name, completely shocked to see her there.

"How did you know where to find me?" he asks when she comes closer.

"Because I know you, stupid" Blair tells him as she throws her arms around his neck and kisses him.

"Victrola is like a glorified tree house you hide in whenever things don't go your way" she says when she pulls back.

"It's the only place everything's made sense before" he says, pressing his forehead to hers.

"I thought you were gonna hurt yourself" Blair says with tears in her eyes.

"I'm sorry" Chuck says as he buries his face in her neck "I'm so sorry."

"Chuck I can't do this anymore" she tells him "I love you and I want to be with you, but I can't stand still any longer."

"I know, you're right. But I'm scared about what comes next. I don't want to fail or disappoint you" he says.

"And you think I do?" Blair asks, lifting his head to look at her "Chuck I'm scared too, I'm scared all the time. But nothing scares me more than the idea of sitting back and watching you self destruct until there's nothing left."

"I plan on going places in life, Chuck" she tells him.

"You will-you already are" he says.

"And when I do" Blair continues "I want you there with me."

Chuck sighs, dropping his arms and taking a step away from her.

"I don't know if I have what it takes to run Bass Industries" he confesses.

"That company belongs to you, Chuck. Business is in your blood. And I'll help you, whatever it takes. I promise. I know you can do this" she says.

"I may fail" he says.

"If you fail, I fail. We'll figure it out, like we always have" Blair tells him.

She turns his shoulders around so that they're both facing the sunset falling over Manhattan.

"See that? That's our city" she says, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her chin on his shoulder "And one day you and I are gonna rule it."

Chuck closes his eyes and coves her arms with his.

"Do you promise? he whispers.

"With every fiber of my being" Blair says, sealing her vow with a kiss on his neck.

They stayed like that, in each other's arms, until the whole city (their city) was cloaked in darkness. Afterwards, Chuck and Blair left the rooftop hand in hand, ready for whatever life had waiting for them.

And they would win.

FIN.

AN: Thank you so very much from the bottom of my heart for all your support on this story guys. As always, your words of encouragement took a small idea I had and helped me take it places I never would have gone on my own.