AN: There just aren't that many Dan and Serena stories out there, and well...they're some of my favorite characters so I just couldn't help but continue this. This is more of an introspective walk through the beginning of the series. Hopefully someone else will enjoy it too. I'm not sure how far I'll go with it, I guess it depends on how far the ideas go and how many people end up reading and enjoying. Drop me a review if you like it. I've included a repost of the prologue at the beginning of this chapter because I wasn't sure I was going to continue this, you can find the original post in the story titled: Concrete Jungle.
Concrete Jungle: Prologue
click-clack, click-clack, click-clack, click-clack
The train chattered at a steady pace as it raced through the Connecticut countryside; the sun hanging low in the sky outside the clouded window like the ray of a bright flashlight shining through a smudged piece of wax paper. Serena hated riding the train. It was usually crowded, dirty, loud, and annoying and she wasn't sure if she could handle any of the above today.
She would normally have taken a car sent by her mother to get home, but today was different and she couldn't be bothered with the wait. Not to mention the fact that her mother was the last person she wanted to accept anything from right now.
Serena blew a stray piece of blond hair from her face and let her head hit the dirty window with a thud as she thought about the conversation she'd had with her mom earlier that day. The conversation that finally shattered the remainder of the tactically created and put together Upper East Side facade that years of tradition and living with her ever elegant and proper mother had blessed her with.
"Serena, I really don't think that's necessary," Lily van der Woodsen sighed.
"Not necessary?" Serena demanded into her cell phone as she stomped up the stairs to her room at Hanover Academy for Girls attempting to find some privacy; a seemingly impossible task at an all girls boarding school. "You honestly think I'm going to listen to the person who got him where he is in the first place?"
"Watch your tone young lady," Lily snapped. "You have no idea what's been going on here lately so don't go throwing around rash accusations about this situation."
Serena sighed and took a deep breath. Now, after 16 years her mother had decided to actually mother? This was not the way to get information from Lily and right now that was exactly what Serena needed. She only cared about one thing, finding out if her brother was okay.
"I'm sorry Mom. It's just…I'm freaking out here. I can't stay at Hanover any more. I need to be with Eric. I'm coming home today and we can talk then."
"What about your classes?" Her mother was caving (not that it mattered, she would be leaving regardless), Serena could tell. Maybe the sole reason Lily had even called as soon as she had was for the very purpose of getting her daughter home so she wouldn't feel so guilty when leaving Eric alone for her afternoon teas and manicures or blow-outs at Frederik Fekkai. Serena couldn't help but sadly realize that, with her mother, such selfish acts were always a possibility.
"I don't care about that right now Mom, and frankly, I'm not sure how you could either," Serena accused. "I know what I need to do, where I need to be." Why had it taken something like this to make her realize something she should have known all along? "I'll start back at Constance next week. I'm packing what I need and I'm leaving today."
Lily was silent for a moment on the other end of the line. "Assuming they let you back in," she clipped. "At least let me send a car for you."
"No, I could be halfway home before a car even gets here. I'll take a train. Just have someone pick me up at Grand Central this afternoon," Serena could feel the tears that had been threatening to spill since her mother had called welling up in the corners of her eyes and she swiped at them angrily with the back of her free hand. This was the icing on the cake that was the, mostly, self-made nightmare of the past year of her life.
Lily almost whispered into the phone as if she didn't want her daughter to hear. "Fine. I will be at the Waldorf's this afternoon for an important party. You will come to the party and talk to me before you go anywhere else. Do you understand?"
"You're leaving him! You can NOT be serious!" Serena yelped as she slammed her door and began tossing clothes into an open, dark gray Louis Vuitton suitcase with little brown L's and V's covering it. She offhandedly wondered when and why petty shit like a designer suitcase became so important to her. She couldn't recall, it just always...was.
"Serena, he's in good hands. He's resting. There's nothing more I can do for him right now," Lily stated.
She was sick of her mother's excuses. "Except be there, but you were never very good at that were you Mom?" Serena dug, going for the jugular. No use holding back now. She was pissed, she was helpless, she was scared and damnit
to hell; someone was going to hear about it. Rationality had taken the
first car out of town the minute her phone rang that morning.
She knew she'd gone too far when she was greeted by a moment of silence that lasted just a little too long. "I can't miss this party, and you will see me before seeing your brother. I'll make sure the driver is well aware of this." Lily said in a toneless voice.
"Fine." Serena spit through her tears as she slammed her phone shut. She sat hard on her stiff boarding school bed for the last time and let her long blond hair shield her face from the world before she had to look up one more time and stare the reality of the situation right in the ugly face.
An hour and a half later and she was finally passing in to New York. Soon the serene peace of the country would fade and the concrete jungle would appear and she would be home again. And this time, everything would be different. She would make sure of that.
Just because you grew up a girl in this world, doesn't mean that you have to let this world determine the woman you are going to become.
Chapter 1
There's Always That Certain Something
There is always that certain something that reminds you of home after you've been gone for far too long, or at least when you feel like you have. For Serena, that thing was the smell of stale hot dogs, train exhaust, and leather luggage that greeted her the second she stepped off of her train and into the bustling hub of Grand Central Station.
The huge yet familiar train depot bore a startling difference to the small station in Hanover, Connecticut that was still a fresh and vivid memory, yet to be filed away with the blur of a year she was leaving behind. It was am intimate station filled with students of the elite boarding school in town and various business men and women traveling back and forth to the city for work. Bright open windows that provided a view of the small town square on one side and the greenish gold leaves of almost color changing trees on the other, allowed a crisp fall breeze to cross in between. Grand Central was big and crowded with busy city dwellers and tourists, heady and almost murky with waves of exhaust floating in from the trains on one side and the doors opening out to 42nd Street on the other. It wasn't hard for Serena to realize in which of the contrasting locations she felt more comfortable.
She was a New York City girl, born and bred. What was it they always said? You can take the girl out of the city, but you can't take the city out of the girl. She wasn't sure who "they" were, but "they" sure as hell knew what they were talking about. Regardless of the circumstances, she couldn't help but stop and allow a small smile to play on her lips, as she stared around the busy terminal.
Damn it was good to be home.
Her mood drifted back to sullen as she quickly glanced around and through the packs of unfamiliar people looking for a suit with a sign, or a familiar face that might belong to the driver that her mother was supposed to have sent, but she was greeted with empty glances and hurried stares. Serena sighed and grabbed the handle of her light suitcase lugging it to the stairs so she could get a better view of the station. Sometimes being almost six feet tall just didn't cut it and she was already on the edge of impatience. She'd only been in he station for two minutes, but every minute seemed like it was one longer than she should have been away from her brother.
Dan Humphrey heaved his heavy and worn, black, standard issue duffel bag off the train with one hand and grappled with his sister's even heavier bag with his other.
"Shit," he cursed as he stumbled down the last step of the train. "Tell me it was really necessary to pack eighty pairs of shoes for this trip...to Hudson...which, may I remind you, is in the middle of nowhere."
His little sister sighed her "he obviously doesn't understand the peril's of fashion" sigh, a sigh he'd heard thousands of times before; while grudgingly reminding him that a girl never knows when she'll have to look her best and yanked her suitcase back. "God Dan, have you ever thought about maybe lifting a weight instead of a pen and a cup of coffee? If you ever get a girlfriend you're going to have to be able to, you know, carry her books and stuff."
"Have you ever thought about, I don't know, maybe talking less and walking more?" Dan ribbed in reply as they wandered onto the large second floor platform of Grand Central Station.
"Dan, Jenny!" A familiar voice echoed.
"Hey, Dad!" Jenny shrieked as she spotted their father milling through the crowd, a lost look on his face.
Dan smiled and waved as he saw Rufus Humphrey, all decked out in his blue jeans and best button down "I'm an ex-rocker" shirt, light up at the sight of them.
"Hey, you made it!" Rufus grabbed them both and drew them into one of Dan's least favorite displays of affection, the dreaded group hug. However, considering he hadn't seen his dad in a whole weekend and, no matter how much he might have tried to deny it, he kind of missed him, he conceded and hugged right back with a resigned smile. In the middle of a crowded train station, without a paper bag to disguise his face, and no way to hide. Wow, he must have missed old Rufus more than even he realized.
"So, how was your weekend?" Rufus asked, quickly skipping right to the dreaded question. "How's your mom?"
Dan and Jenny glanced at each other before stumbling over their replies.
"She's Fine." he said. "She's Good!" she smiled.
Dan looked at his scuffed Chuck Taylor's and cursed internally. That didn't go anything like what he and Jenny had rehearsed on the train.
"Uh, she's fine...and good," his sister stuttered uncomfortably.
Dan attempted a smooth recovery, being the slick talker that he knew he wasn't. "She's good and um, fine."
Their fathers face fell. "Like maybe I never should have left Manhattan fine or taking a time out from my marriage was the best idea I ever had fine?"
This could have gone worse Dan thought as he calculated Rufus's confused glances between Jenny and himself, but he wasn't really sure how.
"Dad, you know what? I am uh...I'm starving..." He shot quickly as he looked around to see if he'd set anything down on the busy walkway. When you're out of options, always turn to food; Rufus's favorite past time.
Dan was sure that his father said something about cooking salad and truffles or waffles or something with "...ffles" in it, he just wasn't sure what. Actually, he wasn't sure he was still breathing, though he could feel his heart pounding through his ribs. He almost dropped his heavy bag as he attempted to reach up and touch his chest to make sure the rebellious organ hadn't popped right out through his favorite striped sweater.
He knew that shining blond hair, and the tall lean body that it belonged to. He knew it, and he'd been waiting to lay eyes on it again for eight months too long. He resisted the urge to run over to her, to turn her around and kiss her with all of the passion in his body. That's what a real romantic writer would have done; someone like F. Scott Fitzgerald or Ernest Hemingway. And Dan did ever fancy himself the romantic writer, but he was no Casanova, and she didn't even know him.
Serena van der Woodsen may have been standing 5 feet before him in the flesh, looking lost and alone; but she was still a dream to him and he was pretty certain that she always would be.
He didn't know why she was back, or for how long, or even where the hell she'd been; but he took a mental picture of her in that moment, standing alone looking vulnerable and angelic with the sun shinning on her golden hair through the high windows of the terminal, to file away and write about later. It was the only way he could get close enough to feel her.