Up on the Rooftop
Title: Up on the Rooftop
Characters: Eric, Chuck, Blair, Jack
Rating/Word Count: PG-13 | 1,034
One-Line Excerpt: “You should come home, Chuck,” Eric tried to reach out.
Gossip Girl informed him of the party at Victrola. Jenny said the girls were sure to be there; now was an opportune time to strike. Eric just nodded; he didn’t need her excuse. The moment he read Chuck, tonight, Victrola, he was going.
The place was packed, alcohol was everywhere. Girls were gyrating on stage. It was too much, too out-of-control, too Thailand.
And then Eric caught his first glimpse of Chuck in the new year. He strolled over to the other boy. “Welcome back.” Chuck turned around to face him. “How was Thailand?”
“I honestly don’t remember.”
And Eric was able to look into his stepbrother’s eyes. The older boy was gone, living on autopilot.
No one in Eric’s immediate family died, so he was at a loss at how to help. Besides, the roles were now reversed. In the past, Eric always went to Chuck with his problems. Even before that, the biggest thing Eric had to deal with was his sister’s love life.
He felt helpless. How in the world was he supposed to deal with Chuck’s problems when the only thing he did during his own period of inner demons was to end it all? That’s what it seemed like Chuck was doing - numbing himself against the pain. It’s part of the grieving process, his therapist said.
“You should come home, Chuck,” Eric tried to reach out.
Chuck reached out at a passing waitress and grabbed a bottle of alcohol. “I think I’ll take the view from above. It was nice having you as my little brother.” And he walked away.
Eric flushed at the words. Reassuring his sister about anything, he could do in his sleep, but when someone doesn’t want (resists) help, Eric was at a lost. He’d been in therapy for almost a year and a half, but this was out of his league, especially when he was barely hanging on because of the damn women in his life and the complete abandonment by his brother, his confidant. (It wasn’t fair to put some of the blame on Chuck, but Eric was in no position to do anything more than watch the events take place.)
His phone bussed, startling him. He pulled it out and read the text from Jenny to meet her outside for the confrontation with the Mean Girls. He maneuvered through the drunken crowd.
“…A wonderful influence on him,” he heard Blair snap, followed by a maniacal, male chuckle. “Oh, hey, Eric.”
He looked at Blair and felt Jack Bass, which explained the demented laugh, put his arm around him.
“Have you seen Chuck?” she asked.
“Oh, a while ago. He said something about wanting to take in the view from above,” he shrugged. The only thing he could do now was help Jenny and Nelly Yuki. Chuck wanted to be alone with his liquor.
“He probably went upstairs,” Jack elaborated.
“Clearly you don’t know Chuck.” Her tone steady with annoyance. “He has a thing for rooftops.”
Eric swore he saw her pale as she walked off.
Jack, smirking, handed Eric his scotch-filled glass and followed.
Confused, it took him a moment to figure out what Blair meant.
He remembered Jenny’s attack on the roof; her revenge on the roof - where he led her. And then there was that “I-love-you, say-it-first” thing a few months ago… Oh, shit!
Placing the glass on a table and heading after them, Eric caught up as the stairwell door nearly closed. They reached the New York City air, and he didn’t notice anything until Blair paused and Jack shouted Chuck’s name.
“No! You idiot!” Blair whacked Jack, and Eric looked up. His eyes bugged out.
Chuck Bass was teetering on the edge of the building, clearly drunk.
“You don’t surprise someone standing on the edge of a building!”
Eric nodded. For all his time helping his sister with all her problems, he failed the ultimate test: noticing someone suicidal literally right in front of him. He wanted to cry.
“Chuck, come away from there. Let’s go down and join the party,” Jack said casually.
“I was at the party,” he finally spoke, slurring. “I’m not really into that.”
“Chuck, your father wouldn’t have wanted this.” The tone made Eric angry. The older man was goading him!
But Eric didn’t know what to say; Blair would fix this.
“Dear old Dad? Fortunately all I know was what he didn’t want. Which is me.”
The three on-lookers waited for the next movement.
“I’m Chuck Bass!” he screamed, and then completely inflated. “No one cares.”
Not a second passed before the angel sang. “I do!” Eric fought back tears. “Don’t you understand? I’ll always be here. I don’t want you going anywhere. I couldn’t bare it. So whatever you want to do to yourself, please don’t do that to me.”
The words broke him. Because all he ever wanted was someone to care about him like Blair did for Chuck. Not in a romantic sense, but in a friend, family, everything type of way. But his mother was too self-absorbed in her own life and rarely cared about others, and his sister, whom he loved deeply and who loved him back, was always getting herself into situations and trying to fix herself; never getting it until it hit her over the head.
And here Blair was, telling Chuck to live for her, and Eric knew that’s all it took; one person loving you enough, giving you reason to live another day. Serena did that for him, but already after the suicide attempt. And then there was Chuck, who always made Eric feel he had a friend. Now it was his turn to return the favor.
Eric watched Blair extend her hand to Chuck. Everyone held their breath. “Please,” she pleaded. And then Chuck reached down and grasped it, using her to help himself down. He fell into her arms and she held him tightly.
Eric rushed over and joined the hug. He felt Blair’s hand grab his, and Eric squeezed, giving her a smile through the tears.
His watch caught his gaze. 11:11. Make a wish. He closed his eyes. We’ll get through this. Together.
They’d all be okay. One day.
Characters: Eric, Chuck, Blair, Jack
Rating/Word Count: PG-13 | 1,034
One-Line Excerpt: “You should come home, Chuck,” Eric tried to reach out.
Gossip Girl informed him of the party at Victrola. Jenny said the girls were sure to be there; now was an opportune time to strike. Eric just nodded; he didn’t need her excuse. The moment he read Chuck, tonight, Victrola, he was going.
The place was packed, alcohol was everywhere. Girls were gyrating on stage. It was too much, too out-of-control, too Thailand.
And then Eric caught his first glimpse of Chuck in the new year. He strolled over to the other boy. “Welcome back.” Chuck turned around to face him. “How was Thailand?”
“I honestly don’t remember.”
And Eric was able to look into his stepbrother’s eyes. The older boy was gone, living on autopilot.
No one in Eric’s immediate family died, so he was at a loss at how to help. Besides, the roles were now reversed. In the past, Eric always went to Chuck with his problems. Even before that, the biggest thing Eric had to deal with was his sister’s love life.
He felt helpless. How in the world was he supposed to deal with Chuck’s problems when the only thing he did during his own period of inner demons was to end it all? That’s what it seemed like Chuck was doing - numbing himself against the pain. It’s part of the grieving process, his therapist said.
“You should come home, Chuck,” Eric tried to reach out.
Chuck reached out at a passing waitress and grabbed a bottle of alcohol. “I think I’ll take the view from above. It was nice having you as my little brother.” And he walked away.
Eric flushed at the words. Reassuring his sister about anything, he could do in his sleep, but when someone doesn’t want (resists) help, Eric was at a lost. He’d been in therapy for almost a year and a half, but this was out of his league, especially when he was barely hanging on because of the damn women in his life and the complete abandonment by his brother, his confidant. (It wasn’t fair to put some of the blame on Chuck, but Eric was in no position to do anything more than watch the events take place.)
His phone bussed, startling him. He pulled it out and read the text from Jenny to meet her outside for the confrontation with the Mean Girls. He maneuvered through the drunken crowd.
“…A wonderful influence on him,” he heard Blair snap, followed by a maniacal, male chuckle. “Oh, hey, Eric.”
He looked at Blair and felt Jack Bass, which explained the demented laugh, put his arm around him.
“Have you seen Chuck?” she asked.
“Oh, a while ago. He said something about wanting to take in the view from above,” he shrugged. The only thing he could do now was help Jenny and Nelly Yuki. Chuck wanted to be alone with his liquor.
“He probably went upstairs,” Jack elaborated.
“Clearly you don’t know Chuck.” Her tone steady with annoyance. “He has a thing for rooftops.”
Eric swore he saw her pale as she walked off.
Jack, smirking, handed Eric his scotch-filled glass and followed.
Confused, it took him a moment to figure out what Blair meant.
He remembered Jenny’s attack on the roof; her revenge on the roof - where he led her. And then there was that “I-love-you, say-it-first” thing a few months ago… Oh, shit!
Placing the glass on a table and heading after them, Eric caught up as the stairwell door nearly closed. They reached the New York City air, and he didn’t notice anything until Blair paused and Jack shouted Chuck’s name.
“No! You idiot!” Blair whacked Jack, and Eric looked up. His eyes bugged out.
Chuck Bass was teetering on the edge of the building, clearly drunk.
“You don’t surprise someone standing on the edge of a building!”
Eric nodded. For all his time helping his sister with all her problems, he failed the ultimate test: noticing someone suicidal literally right in front of him. He wanted to cry.
“Chuck, come away from there. Let’s go down and join the party,” Jack said casually.
“I was at the party,” he finally spoke, slurring. “I’m not really into that.”
“Chuck, your father wouldn’t have wanted this.” The tone made Eric angry. The older man was goading him!
But Eric didn’t know what to say; Blair would fix this.
“Dear old Dad? Fortunately all I know was what he didn’t want. Which is me.”
The three on-lookers waited for the next movement.
“I’m Chuck Bass!” he screamed, and then completely inflated. “No one cares.”
Not a second passed before the angel sang. “I do!” Eric fought back tears. “Don’t you understand? I’ll always be here. I don’t want you going anywhere. I couldn’t bare it. So whatever you want to do to yourself, please don’t do that to me.”
The words broke him. Because all he ever wanted was someone to care about him like Blair did for Chuck. Not in a romantic sense, but in a friend, family, everything type of way. But his mother was too self-absorbed in her own life and rarely cared about others, and his sister, whom he loved deeply and who loved him back, was always getting herself into situations and trying to fix herself; never getting it until it hit her over the head.
And here Blair was, telling Chuck to live for her, and Eric knew that’s all it took; one person loving you enough, giving you reason to live another day. Serena did that for him, but already after the suicide attempt. And then there was Chuck, who always made Eric feel he had a friend. Now it was his turn to return the favor.
Eric watched Blair extend her hand to Chuck. Everyone held their breath. “Please,” she pleaded. And then Chuck reached down and grasped it, using her to help himself down. He fell into her arms and she held him tightly.
Eric rushed over and joined the hug. He felt Blair’s hand grab his, and Eric squeezed, giving her a smile through the tears.
His watch caught his gaze. 11:11. Make a wish. He closed his eyes. We’ll get through this. Together.
They’d all be okay. One day.