Chapter 2 of The Butterfly Effect
Author: Isabelle
Rating: PG-13
Summary: AU. At age 36, Chuck Bass dies. His daughter, unable to stand the pain and her mother's tears, hires a mad scientist to send her back in time to prevent her father's death. She arrives at present day, Chuck/Blair's senior year, and attempts to get her parents together before the disaster can occur in the future. Has nothing to do with the film other than the title.
Disclaimer: I don't own Gossip Girl, Back to the Future, The Butterfly Effect, the Time Machine or anything else you can relate to this. The only character that is mine is Kitty, CB's daughter.
A/N: I have honestly no clue as to how this idea came about. It's a bit mystical, completely AU, and out of the realm of possibility, but that's the writing I enjoy. I hope you all enjoy it, too!!
--
"I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next. Delicious Ambiguity."
Gilda Radner
When she entered the house, she instantly felt his presence missing. She felt it, and it killed her.
Blair Waldorf had always prided herself on having everything and anything she wanted. As a young child, her father gave her everything her heart desired. As an adult, Chuck had. If she felt sad, he would make love to her. If she felt needy, he would buy her diamonds. If she felt restless, he would take her to the ends of the world. When she became lonely, he gave her a daughter. A daughter that had his eyes and always would.
The maids led her to her bedroom. To their bedroom. The moment the door closed, she felt the world caving in on her.
She stared at their bed.
Three days ago. Three days. 36 hours. Two thousand minutes, and he was gone.
36 hours ago, they had been in this same bed, having breakfast, like they did on Saturdays. He was reading over reports while she played with the digital recorder and chose what prime time drama to watch.
He would tell her to put on some sports, just to bother her, because she knew he was never a sports fanatic. She would ignore him and tell him to continue working, because he was a workaholic.
She slid down to the floor, staring at their bed.
Where was her Chuck? Her husband and constant companion.
The pity behind the doors was threatening to take over her life. Poor widow. Poor Blair Bass, a widow at only 36.
She felt her resolve crumble when she smelled his cologne in the room. The maids attempted to ignore the wracking sobs behind the large golden door.
--
Kitty listened to her mother sob on the other side of the door, and she touched the gold paneling. Her parents had always been extravagant. She was born into extravagance, tales of how they had converted a part of their penthouse into a nursery, and Katerina had come to the world in an elaborate organic water birth overseen by the most prominent midwife money could buy. A team of nurses and nannies had always been at hand, but Blair and Chuck insisted on doing as much as they could themselves.
Blair still kept her baby clothes, hoping one day to bestow them on Kitty's child.
The earliest memories she had consisted of running through the large home, her father laughing and chasing after her as her mother cautioned them to be careful with her Parisian china.
Yet when Kitty would break something, Chuck would simply wave his hand and replace it to appease his wife. Who would replace now all that was broken?
She checked her cell and saw 25 missed calls. Heloise, Nate, Serena, Ian, and even William. Bastard.
She sighed, throwing her phone on her night table as she entered her room.
Bali, her personal maid walked in, and Kitty asked her to leave her alone. Bali studied her but finally gave in, finding a corner of their perfect home to clean.
She pulled out her laptop and began her research on Dr. Helbert Lynn, the 'mad scientist' who claimed he had invented a time machine. She read a few sites that called him a modern day Frankenstein. This was exactly what she needed. A man crazy enough to make a crazy dream work.
--
She couldn't find her pearls. Her pearls were gone. And that's when she remembered he had placed the pearls in their box in the closet.
She walked hesitantly to the closet, and the colors of his clothes overwhelmed her. Chuck never spared an expense. His clothing ranged from runway ready-to-wear to custom made pieces showered on him by her designer friends.
And there, by his Italian merino sweaters, was the small mahogany box. He had it made for them when she finished college. She reached out and grabbed it with trembling hands, opening it.
A picture of their twenty-year old selves greeted her. He had his arms wrapped around her from behind, his chin resting on her shoulder. In her arms was baby Kitty, struggling to be let down from her mother's grip. She had just learned to walk. Chuck had surprised them with a trip to Rio, and they named it 'Baby's first vacation.' He was smirking, giving the camera a wink. She was smiling, blissfully. She touched the picture, remembering how happy they were.
God, she missed him.
She reached for her pearls. On the clasp, he had engraved Mine.
Because she had Yours engraved on his gold cufflinks.
They had marked each other.
Yours and Mine.
She put on her pearls, because he would always be hers no matter what. She remembered that it took her 18 months for her to give him her heart pin. But he had had her heart since the moment he first kissed her.
And now he was gone.
Chuck Bass made her nine promises the night they confessed their love for each other.
He broke the first one.
--
The wake and funeral lasted a lifetime, and all that Kitty could do to survive it all was think that in no time, she would change everything. Her mother wouldn't look so frail under layers of Chanel makeup and her aunt's smile would be bright and shiny.
She felt Ian's eyes on her, dark and inquisitive, but she ignored him and instead grasped Heloise's hand, trying to block out the ladylike sobs that her mother let out as Chuck's coffin was lowered to the ground.
As they bid the last person goodbye from their home, she walked into her room and found Ian on her bed. In the past, this wouldn't have bothered her. Ian had been in her room many times, much to her father's chagrin. He was in a black suit, jacket laying over her chaise, his sleeves rolled up and looking once more intently at her.
"You can't ignore me forever," he said.
She rolled her eyes and pulled her luggage out. He watched her.
"You can't be serious about this, Katerina." His voice was calm, but she knew him better; she knew he wanted to explode and shake her.
"Ian," she began wearily. "My father left me 75 of his money. Do you know how much that is?"
He blinked at her. Everyone knew that the Basses had risen to billionaires once Chuck Bass took over his father's corporation. 75 made her one of the richest heiresses in all of New York and most likely in all of the East coast.
He sighed, standing up.
"So you're going to spend all of your money funding some crazy guy in order to go back in time and prevent your dad from dying?"
She knew it sounded crazy. More than crazy. It sounded mental, and if her mother heard her, it would break her heart even more. But she had to try.
"I just want to talk to this man," she insisted. Ian glared at her.
"This is crazy. Are you listening to yourself? It's crazy," Ian exploded.
"I know!" She snapped, opening her panty drawer.
"If your father were here-"
"If my father were here, he wouldn't want my mother as broken as she is right now!"
And that ended it. Ian watched her pack, his hands on his hips as she stuffed the essentials into her suitcase.
"I'm going with you," he said firmly.
"No. You have school," she said, not looking at him.
"Oh, and you don't?" He shot back.
"I'm way ahead in all my classes, and it's senior year. Plus… if this goes through, I'll be back literally before you know it."
His eyes widened. "No."
"This is not up for discussion, Ian!" She growled, hefting her bag. "Just please let me do this."
"You can't control death, Katerina," he said softly, coming closer. His proximity intoxicated her.
She met his eyes and pulled him down for a kiss. He clung to her hips even as she pulled away. She pressed her forehead to his. "I need to fix this."
And in his eyes, she saw pity.
--
The day Blair realized she was pregnant, she felt like she was drowning. She was a fresh-faced 18 year old and halfway through their senior year, she had caved to the advances of Chuck Bass once more and had woken in his bed. Naked.
She swore she never would again. After avoiding him for three days, she realized she had skipped her period. She was never late. She was precise, like clock-work. The day she realized she was pregnant, she asked him over.
Now, years later, she didn't even remember what the fight was about, but it had been a huge fight. He had stormed out, and she hadn't told him she was pregnant. For a moment there she decided she would abort the baby. She would get rid of it because any part of Chuck Bass was poison.
Three hours later, she received the call.
She sat by his bed and dared not touch him until the third day. On the third day of watching him breathe in and out, she reached out and held his hand. She could almost see her small young self as she pleaded for him to come back to her because she was pregnant and was going to have his child.
They had told them that his brain damage was extensive, and he would soon die. Serena tried telling her things like at least he left her a gift; a gift she would always have, a part of him.
She stayed by his bed, and on the 3rd week of waiting, she had told Bart Bass that she was pregnant with his grandchild. She had never seen Bart Bass cry. Bart Bass had held her as if she were his own daughter, and he thanked her.
Chuck, of course, woke the next day. As dramatic as ever. On his third day of being awake, he demanded to be let go from the smelly hospital. He also had all types of flowers, teddies, and cards removed from the room, because he was not sick.
The doctors were stunned, the swelling in his brain had gone down completely. Chuck, who was now missing half of his hair, was still not at all pleased. The hair had been shaved off for his operation. He insisted on having a Burberry hat on as they got into the limo.
She tried to tell him in the limo, once they were alone, because she was sentimental, and it was perfect. He was horny, so she decided to give in on the limo sex because he had almost died. It wasn't until they were in his bed a couple of trysts later that he decided to shower. She quickly jumped up, grabbed her lipstick, and wrote on his mirror.
She made it under the covers in time for him to walk out of the shower, complaining about the needle tracks on his arm because of the IV. He didn't look at the mirror and this infuriated her.
"You have something on your cheek," she said.
He brushed his hand over his cheek, carelessly, his eyes glued on her exposed breasts. They were inflating at an incredible rate. She was now only a couple weeks pregnant. Was that even possible? She'd been so distraught over his accident that she hadn't taken care of herself like she should.
"Your breasts look great," he whispered, as if examining a new Dior suit.
Her nostrils flared, and she glared at him. "Why don't you look at yourself in the mirror?" She snapped.
"I don't want to see my hair," he stated plainly.
She rolled her eyes. He was killing the very notion of romance.
"Please?" She asked. His shoulder sagged, and he glanced at the mirror, stopping when he saw lipstick on it.
Then he read it.
Congratulations, daddy. I'm pregnant.
He blinked and she smiled, satisfied, sinking further into the pillows.
"Is this a joke?" He asked, still staring at the words. Or his hair, it was a toss up.
She wrapped the sheet around her and walked to him slowly.
"Nope."
He then turned to look at her, eyes wide.
"I found out a couple of days before the accident," she said softly, pressing her small hand on his chest. "I thought it was a sign that you were going to die for sure. Like God had left a little piece of you in me." Her eyes watered. She was so damn emotional lately. She hated it.
His eyes softened, and he pulled her against him. "You're pregnant," he said into her hair, and she nodded. "We're going to have a baby. In High School." His voice was calm, but she could hear the panic bubbling inside of him.
"Technically, we won't be in High School when it's born." She looked up at him. He looked horrible, with half his hair missing and a nasty scar over his left eyebrow which was almost healed.
"It?" He asked, a slow smirk forming on his face.
She shrugged.
"Can you please not refer to my son as an 'It'?"
"How do you know it's a boy?" She demanded.
"Basses are always boys. There hasn't been a Bass girl in five generations," he declared.
She raised a brow at him. He maintained it was a boy until the day she gave birth. She hadn't been able to start Yale in the Fall, as had been her plan, but she was done with planning. She also didn't know why the hell she had decided on a natural birth. She had been reading about how all these movie stars did organic water births, and Chuck had set one up for her. An hour before Kitty was born, she demanded they give her drugs. It had been too late and, in a giant Jacuzzi, with Chuck sitting behind her, with Serena and her mom standing near by and listening to her scream her head off, Kitty had plopped out of her and into the water. As the midwife brought the baby to the surface, she cried out, 'It's a girl!' The room had erupted in cheers, and Blair was deathly afraid that Chuck wouldn't want the baby now that it was a girl.
Boy, was she wrong. No one could take the baby from Chuck's arms. Everyone just let him be as he spoke to her, bathed her (never mind that they hired 4 nannies and a full-time nurse), sang to her, changed her, and dressed her in adorable little Burberry dresses. Katerina was his favorite toy. Always was. Eric was the one who began calling Katerina Kitty, and it stuck. Kitty Bass. Chuck loved it and had a mural painted in her room of little kittens chasing butterflies.
Chuck showered his daughter with butterflies. Kitty got real butterflies, gold butterflies, silver butterflies, diamonds on butterflies – there was a butterfly explosion in her room.
Serena once asked her what was his obsession with butterflies, and Blair had lied and told her it was a dream he had while in the coma. No one needed to know the real meaning behind the butterflies that a seventeen year old boy refused to murder. Instead they mated and multiplied, and she apparently swallowed some while she kissed him, because they also lived inside of her.
The butterflies that always surrounded Kitty signified their love. She was born out of wedlock, yes, but out of love nonetheless. She would always have butterflies.
--
It was easier said than done to get out of her house unnoticed. Most of the guests had left, and her mother was surrounded by her close friends. If things went well, she would only be gone a few hours. Just a few hours and things would be back to normal.
She slipped into her limo, and her chauffer was startled.
"The bank."
He didn't question her and, before she knew it, she was secretly thanking her father for allowing her full access to her accounts once she turned 18. And she had turned 18 the month before.
10,000,000
It had taken hours to get the amount approved. Apparently there were some federal rulings and whatnot. Once she was cleared, it was in a couple of bags, sitting next to her as the driver made his way to a little town north of D.C.
She fell asleep halfway there, plagued by dreams of her father on her twelfth birthday. His smiling face shook her, and she was startled awake.
The mad scientist's home was a small ranch that looked completely abandoned—it was a place Katerina Bass-Waldorf would never be caught alive in, but she took a deep breath and led the way into the place, her driver following her with the bags hanging from his tired hands.
She knocked and waited.
"Get the fuck off my lawn!" A yell startled her, and she jumped back. Her driver gave her a look.
She took a deep breath and stood her ground.
"Dr. Lynn!" She cried. Silence.
"Dr. Lynn, my name is Katerina Bass, and I need to speak with you." Her voice was stronger than she felt herself to be at the moment.
"I don't speak to people," the voice said.
"I'm not just 'people.' I have a business proposition for you," she corrected.
Silence.
"I believe you," she finally said. "Can we please speak?"
The door finally slid open, and she scrunched up her nose. Ugh. What was that smell?
A head poked itself out, and a man with extremely thick glasses studied her. Her and her perfectly pressed Waldorf dress, her long ivory pea coat, and her knee-high matching boots, with her father's scarf wrapped around her neck. Her hair was perfectly done, like her mother had always taught her, and her makeup reflected a girl who had lived in the midst of the fashion world. Her mother did run the entire Waldorf corporation, and Kitty herself knew half the designers in the market by name and nickname.
"May I speak with you, Dr. Lynn?" She asked, still poised and attempting to portray all the intimidation she had inherited from her father.
"You believe me?" He asked, still confused.
"Yes. I do," she replied, glancing at her driver. "And I can make it worth your while."
The mad doctor finally conceded and let her in. She studied the large room, which was basically a barn converted into some sort of lab that made sense only to him.
She instructed her driver to leave the bags by a chair. She would call him once she needed him. The man studied the scientist apprehensively and then left them.
"I'd offer you coffee, but I made some last year. It's a bit sour now."
She raised her brow. "No chit-chat."
The skinny, shifty man sat down and stared at her.
"I have 10,000,000 in these bags. Cash. I need you to get me back to 2008."
The man stared at her, then at the bags, then back at her.
"Where does a girl as young as you get ten million dollars?"
She crossed her legs. "Inheritance."
"Ten million?"
She nodded.
He whistled, scratching his hay-like hair.
"And you believe me?"
She nodded.
"Why 2008?"
She took a deep breath. "I need to stop my father from getting hurt in an accident that will kill him in present day."
The man cocked his head.
"Stopping death…" he whispered, still studying her.
"What proof do you have that your machine works?" She asked.
"It's not a machine like they show in the movies," he spat out. "It's a transportation device."
She arched her brow.
"Bending the space-time continuum is not child's play, you know," he began, pacing as she followed him with her eyes. "It's not a new toy you can buy for a few million."
She stood slowly and walked to him with all the confidence she could muster.
"A machine, a transportation device, a toy – I don't care!" She snapped, meeting him straight in the eye. "Call it what you like. Can you or can you not get me to 2008?"
He studied her for a moment, and then a slow smile formed in his face.
"Honey, for 10 million, I'd send you to the land before time."
A slow Bass smile formed on her face.
"Do it."
--
To be continued
