AN: This goes on with 'Poor Thing'. You probably have to read that first to get this. I just jotted this down, so don't kill me if it's bad.

Don't own it.

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"Come in"

Blair pushes the oak door open to find an emotionless Bart Bass, poring over his latest business contract. She can't believe she's actually doing this, but she knows her heart won't let her stop.

That's what happens when Chuck Bass steals it and refuses to give it back.

"What can I do for you, Miss Waldorf?" Bart drawls, examining her curiously from under his reading glasses.

Blair seats herself across his desk, crossing her legs demurely. Her chocolate eyes harden and she knows he's taken aback.

"I want to talk to you about Chuck" she replies.

Bart raises an eyebrow, before scoffing.

"Of course. What did he do now?"

Blair can feel her heart crumble for Chuck. His father expects the worst from him, and she hasn't even said a word.

"He didn't do anything, Mr Bass"

Bart's brows knit together in confusion.

"If it's not about my son's behavior, then I don't see any reason why you're here"

Blair's heart is pounding. She knows that if she does this, she may never be invited to another high society brunch again. But she needs to do it. Chuck needs her to do it.

"Why do you hate Chuck so much?" It comes out as a hoarse whisper, but she knows Bart heard her.

"Excuse me?" His cold, ice-blue eyes are flashing dangerously, telling her to stop.

Blair straightens in her seat, before smiling sadly.

"Why do you hate your son so much?" She repeats her question, even though she knows the answer.

Bart stands up, his eyes blazing. He looks like he's about to lash out at her. But he's a Bass and it's not like he wasn't used to it.

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave, Miss Waldorf. This is between Charles and I, and you have no right to pry into this"

Blair remains in her seat, staring coolly at Bart. She smirks.

"Charles refuses to open up to anyone. Now I know where he got it from" she retorts lightly.

An unreadable expression flitters across Bart's face, but he covers it up perfectly after years of practice. Blair cocks her head, still smirking knowingly.

"I wonder, Mr Bass, do you know what they say about him at school? They say it's all his fault his mother died. They say it's all his fault his father doesn't love him. And you know what Chuck says? You make it sound like I care. He doesn't. At least, not anymore."

The sting slaps Bart in the face as Blair closes her eyes, breathing hard. She knows Chuck, and she knows he'll never be able to say these things to his father, because he won't let him.

So she does it for him.

"Do you know," her voice begins to tremble (but she has to stay strong for him) "how much Chuck loves you? Do you know how much he does for you, just so you could be proud of him? He opens Victrola, for you. He left me in Tuscany, for you. Everything he does, it's for you. He just wants you to be proud of him. He's still a little boy who wants his daddy to hold him. He just wants you to praise him, to love him. And you can't even do that"

Tears are silently streaming down her porcelain cheeks, but she doesn't notice because she has to make him understand this, understand Chuck.

"You hate him. You hate him for killing his mother, and it wasn't even his fault! You hate him because he's alive, and that's something he has to live with for the rest of his life!" She's almost screaming, but she doesn't care because she can see Bart finally cracking.

"You hate him, and now he hates himself" Blair finishes quietly, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand.

Bart is breathing hard, his fists are clenched and his eyes are closed. Blair stands up, her doe eyes rimmed with red.

"Thank you for your time, Mr Bass"

She begins to walk out, when his hoarse voice echoes in his magnificent study.

"Blair…tell him that I don't. I don't hate him. Never had, never will"

Blair smiles softly as she lets her herself out to find Chuck Bass standing outside the door, his eyes shining. Blair is taken aback, not by the fact that he caught her defending his honor, but by the way he looks at her.

He looks at her like he loves her

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