Ok, so here's the final installment of Pietas.
I hope you like it, and that it clears up any confusion from prior parts :)
"If we hate a person, we hate something in our image of him that lies within ourselves. What is not within ourselves doesn't upset us."
- Hermann Hesse
The City Official-duo had barely been out of the room two minutes when the change came over him.
Blair recognized it instantly; saw the storm that was brewing in his eyes darken and intensify, felt his fingers twitch and his body tense.
In an instant he was up out of his seat.
He stole one last, long look at the photo in his hand before his fingers curled round it, crumpling it mercilessly and watching as it dropped to the floor. His eyes turned up and she saw them narrow as he glared at his reflection.
And then, before she could even rise out of her place to stop him, he'd picked up the glass on the side-table and hurled it straight at the large mirror opposite.
It shattered on impact, and his chest heaved as she watched the pieces fall, his image skewed and distorted: the splintering of its downfall ringing heavily in the air around them.
She was in shock; so much so, that he'd added the whole bar to his resume of destruction before she snapped out of it enough to scream his name.
He turned to look at her, eyes dark and jaw set; and then he breezed right by her and stalked into the bathroom.
She followed, and flinched when she heard the crash of metal on stone.
As she reached the door, however, she saw something else take over him. She watched the rage manifest itself in his clenched fists; saw something flicker in his eyes that was closer to hurt than anger.
And then he reeled back his arm, and with a grind of teeth, thrust it into the huge mirrored panel in front of him.
She screamed, his name among other things, and rushed forward; grabbing hold of him and pulling his arm towards her as his reflection fell in pieces all around them.
"What the Hell do you think you're doing?" she demanded. "Why did you do that?"
His eyes became glassy, and it's a moment of complete clarity she's not sure she'll ever get again, he whispered hoarsely, "I could see him in me, and I couldn't picture him any other way."
She hears a dull thud from the room nearby, and is up and out of her seat in an instant, leaving Eric stilted in his place; throwing the doors open and immediately scanning the room for the source.
She finds him by the bed; his back against the side, one leg outstretched, the other drawn in close to his chest, his arms strewn at odd angles across his limbs, and his head bowed.
She moves towards him, and sees the crinkled photo once again in his grasp; the sharp, glistening lines down his cheeks.
Blair Waldorf has never witnessed Chuck Bass falling apart before now, and it shakes her to the very core.
His earlier display could have been interpreted as such, but she knows better; that was sheer, raw pain. But this, this is pure grief; this is her witnessing his very undoing.
No, she has never seen him fall apart. And, after this, it is something she never wants to see again.
Because it isn't pretty. Or graceful. It isn't held together or strong.
It's the exact opposite.
It's ugly, and heartbreaking, and she can feel tears come to her own eyes to see him suffering so much. To see him on the ground, choking out sobs, practically begging for his father back.
She's by his side in a half a second, holding him, trying through some divine province to take some of his pain away, but she can't. And it's really and truly killing her. Because all she can do is be there with him, let him cry into her shoulder, and hope that this is the worst she'll ever have to see of him. Because she's not sure if either of them could cope with anything else.
It's too raw, and too painful, and too much. And it hurts too goddamn much as well.
"I love you, Chuck Bass," she tells him fiercely, tightening her arms around him, holding him even closer. "And nothing is ever going to change that."
And through a fog of tears she feels him nod against her chest; his fingers gripping onto her like she's his only hope, his last thread of survival; and the broken words spill from his lips, "I love you too."
"Sometimes you can't make it on your own."
I hope you liked it – told you it wasn't too long – and I hope how I wrote it wasn't too confusing ;) What with the tenses, and the backward and forth-ness, and the constant use of 'she' et al – apologies if it did, though.
Suffice to say, Chuck and Blair get through it, together - sorry I didn't carry on and write more, I probably would have, but since I posted this so late and the Season 2 premiere is tonight, I figure it's best left where it is. Besides, I quite like the ending ;)
Oh, and in case anyone was wondering, the title Pietas came from the Latin story of Aeneas and his journey to the Underworld to save his father; it basically goes into his filial duty, as well as his duty to respect the Gods, and ... a whole load of other stuff, but it was mainly the filial side I was going for in linkage to this ;) I studied it when I did Latin at school, and it just seemed to fit with this quite well, so there ye go :)
Thanks for reading and/or reviewing, alerting, favouriting – it means a lot!