Secret
Story Title: Secret
Story Summary: When they told him should have told him not to tell what they said. Now, two can keep this secret 'cause Dan Humphrey is dead.
Genre: Romance/Mystery
Chapter Focus: What's there to be thankful on this Thanksgiving?
Chapter Rating: T for mentions of drug use and character death
Word Count: eh, don't care.
Author's Starting Notes: This here is chapter two of Secret. This is the last chapter that takes place solely in "present" time. From hence forth, it'll jump a bit between "present" and "past" timelines. We have to know how we got to that point, don't we? This chapter takes place ten days after Dan's death.
Oh, Serendipity545, thanks again for betaing for me. I apologize about the last section, trying to stay mysterious really isn't my strong suit. It was two not three, by the way.
Read and review, guys.
Time Stamp: Posted December 13th, 2008
Chapter Two:
November 26th, 2008 - Midday
"Death changes everything," she began, eyes focused solely on the ground below her, "And, it changes everyone. People react in different ways. Some choose fear and paranoia. Others go for the grievance route. There are those who drastically change and those who fade slowly into something they weren't before. I can look around at all the people in here and I can count on one hand the number of people who changed the instant they heard that my brother was dead. It'll take another ten fingers to count the number of people who have changed in some way since then. Daniel Humphrey was my brother. He was a great guy who was judgmental, funny, and really bright. H-he didn't deserve what happened to him. And, I just want you all to know that he did not die in vain. My parents and I won't rest until the persons responsible are held accountable for what they have done. It's hard to lose a friend, or a classmate. But losing a brother… that's just pain without end."
"I thank you all for coming. He would have been happy to see you guys," she concluded.
Translucent tears pooled at the neck of Jennifer Humphrey's black dress. They melted instantly into the midst of darkness, as did every emotion that came to her those days. All the blonde could feel as she stepped down from the podium was the raw pain that stung inside her chest. She saw the tears on everyone else's faces and felt the urge to laugh. They thought her speech was bad. Try everything she couldn't put in words. Try the hungry leech biting at her insides, leaving her exposed, broken, and alone. Try the look of pity etched onto the faces of everyone around her, or the pure devastation that is transfixed into the eyes of her mother and father. Through the last two weeks of denial, planning, sadness, and acceptance, only one want surfaced and festered, grasping onto her heart and soul screaming. It wanted Dan. She wanted Dan.
She didn't just want the boy who had died. She wanted the person who got her out of trouble by any means necessary, the guy who protected her from the junior monsters in her freshman year, and the boy who had been with her for her entire life. She craved her partner in crime and sole adviser in the way of being a teenager. She needed to vent, but she no longer had the person with the perfect ears. She had to cry, but no other shoulders seemed right. For the past year, Jenny had been trying to run from the life she had towards a life she had always dreamed of. Then, sitting down at her eighteen-year-old brother's funeral, she just wished she could take it all back. Sadly, there were some things in life that could never be undone.
November 26th, 2008 - Night
The faces moved by her in a blur. Blair could not tell which people were speaking to her, and which were just passing by. Nothing seemed to be in focus. Her mind was spinning in the same pattern it had been for the past ten days. The only consolation that came from the time was that she could now stop herself from closing in like a crushed spider every time someone mentioned his name aloud.
"Dan Humphrey," someone mumbled from a bit away from her, "Good boy, he was." The person beside them nodded.
"I always liked him, even though he wasn't the norm. He had a good head on his shoulders. One must wonder how he got himself into this situation," the other person said.
"Definitely dealing with the wrong crowd on his side of the border," added a voice too familiar to be anyone but-
"Chuck Bass, what a surprise to see you here," the first man said straightening his tie. Chuck nodded slowly.
"I figured I'd pay my respects to the only person to punch me and live to tell the tale," Chuck said.
Blair Waldorf blinked blankly to focus on the group. Chuck stood protectively a few feet to the side of her. Two high society men stood some steps back, watching him with interest. One of the men - the first one to speak - seemed to notice her presence. He turned to speak to her.
"Ah, hello, I am Matthew Parks, president in charge of-"
Chuck cleared his throat. The man's sentence was cut off instantly.
"I don't believe this is the time to be making conversation, Mr. Parks. If you would like to, my father is available from noon to three every weekday. He already is expecting your call," Chuck said. Mr. Parks stiffened at the mention of Chuck's father. He motioned to his associate, and the two men left with nothing but a nod in their direction as good-bye.
Once the two men were out of sight, Chuck rounded on her, looking her up and down. He shook his head slowly, and draped his arm casually over her shoulder.
"Breathe. You're beginning to look like a mess," he told her.
"Am I not supposed to? He died, Chuck," she deadpanned.
"Dead or not, Humphrey isn't worth your tears," he said.
"I'm not crying. I haven't cried once in the last month," she said.
"Why not? He died, after all."
"Don't get smart with me, Bass. He was Serena's boyfriend. I feel bad because she feels bad," Blair tried to explain. Chuck rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, because your sympathy for her boyfriend has always been a known character trait of yours," Chuck remarked.
Blair sighed, "I didn't think he would ever die. He's… Brooklyn, not the fricken Ozarks. He shouldn't be dead right now."
"Is that your deep-rooted kind nature, or your hormones talking?" Chuck asked.
"The first one," Blair proposed weakly.
"Look, if you really want to fall apart in public because the guy you supposedly hated died, can you at least do it where Gossip Girl doesn't have a thousand spies? Everyone is looking to find out information on how this happened," Chuck informed.
"He was a do-gooder at eighteen who never did anything wrong. Who wouldn't want to know what happened?"
"Me," Chuck answered, "Finding out how Humphrey died isn't going to change the fact that it already happened. It isn't going to put him back in on his pedestal for preachy speeches about how screwed up our world is. It isn't going to place him back in his father's arms. And, it isn't going to get back the Thanksgiving we're all spending mourning instead of being thankful."
"Is that all you think of, Chuck? The pessimistic side of life?" she asked.
"You know me so well," Chuck replied. Blair rolled her eyes.
Leave it to Chuck Bass to make her feel thankful for one thing; the time she spends without him. It was always hard to believe how in love she was with Chuck. Looking at them then, they looked more like squabbling siblings than the ex-lovers deciding to play it cool. Then again, looking at Blair now, one would think she was the grieving girlfriend rather than blonde sitting in a chair to the side.
Blair's gaze shifted to Serena, finding her easily in the crowd. The death really had taken a toll on her. They weren't dating, not anymore, but it looked as if Serena could not possibly go on another second. Her eyes were sunken in with deep, purple circles all around them. Her usually plump hair was pulled back in a neat bun to try and make up for the dirty color and texture it was taking on. Her skin was pale, and she looked to have not eaten a thing since word reached around that Dan was dead. The only person in the place she would say that looked worse than Serena was Rufus. With too many physical tells to count and so much emotional trauma going through his head, he was undoubtedly the worse of the pack. Still, he leaned against a wall and accepted meekly the words of the people at the reception.
"Why was there even a reception?" Blair asked vehemently, "Do we really need to spend more time focusing on this?"
Chuck was taken aback by Blair's sudden outburst.
"You don't need to, but you are. I'm pretty sure you don't have a say in the matter, Blair," Chuck said with a knowing look. Blair's gaze hardened.
"I really hate you, you know that, right?" she asked, and he nodded, "Good. Now, let's go leave our apologies with Jenny."
"Jenny? Why not one of the parents?" he inquired following behind her despite his question.
"Rufus is a zombie. Alyson… is the last person I would like to speak to. Did you hear her speech at the funeral? She basically said as much as Gossip Girl did. There was practically no emotion. And, she was staring at Serena for half of it," Blair explained.
"You were seated next to Serena. Maybe she was staring at you," Chuck suggested.
"What would be the point in that? I saw her once," Blair pointed out.
"She might have been curious as to why you were in the row with the typical tear busters," Chuck continued offhandedly, "Possibly so curious that she stands by the door waiting for you to walk pass."
Blair quickly snuck a glance towards the door. Her eyes fell on Alyson's form just in front of the door. Blair stifled a groan and changed course. She might as well just forget about the easy way. She would have to talk to Alyson eventually.
"Hello, Ms. Humphrey, you're looking pretty well," Blair complimented.
"Why thank you, Blair," Alyson said, "You know, I was a bit surprised to see you here. I didn't know you were a fan of my son."
"I wasn't," Blair admitted, "Not publicly at least. I'm here for Serena."
Blair watched Alyson look to her friend and back.
"Yes, that makes sense," Alyson stated.
"I am so sorry this has happened to you. Your family didn't deserve it," Blair told her. Alyson nodded.
"It didn't. And, I can't help but wonder i-if maybe I didn't leave, would he still be alive?"
Alyson looked away.
"I doubt your pathetic leave was the reason for this incident," Blair said.
"Pathetic," Alyson bristled, her jaw dropping, "I-"
"I may have talked to a few people during the service. I know some things," Blair said, "One of which is that this is not your fault. Another is that there is something to be thankful for."
"And what is that?" Alyson asked snappishly.
"He lived this long, didn't he? He was able to grow up and become a pretty honorable young man. You can't honestly say that he didn't achieve most of the things you wanted him to," Blair said. Chuck stepped in.
"Straight A's, accepted into Yale after getting an extra recommendation, was published in the New Yorker, found a love that made him truly happy," Chuck listed, Alyson nodded slowly, "He also lost his virginity, took a meth trip, put a psycho bitch inside a correctional facility, and got someone pr-"
"Chuck!" Blair shrieked, silencing him, "So sorry, Ms. Humphrey my friend here never thinks before he speaks."
"Dan was the same way for a while," Alyson responded with a far away look. It was as if the added parts hadn't phased her at all.
"Well, uh, we will just be going on now," Blair said already pulling at Chuck's collar.
"You do that," Alyson said.
"I didn't know you still liked it rough," Chuck grumbled to Blair.
"I cannot believe you said all that! It's a funeral. You're only supposed to mention the good things," Blair said.
"And getting rid of Georgina once and for all wasn't? Could you imagine what this place would be like if she was still walking the streets?" Chuck asked. A shiver went down Blair's spine.
"Okay, so, maybe that one was a good one, but the others…" Blair's sentence trailed off as she noticed Alyson on the other side of the door now. The woman was looking at her with searching eyes, making Blair feel uncomfortable at best.
"Blair," Alyson called from the doorway, "I thought I would let you know that I know everything. I truly do."
Before Blair had the time to react, the door swung close. Chuck looked on curiously.
"That was odd," he declared.
"Yeah, odd," Blair agreed shakily. How much did that woman actually know? She couldn't possibly know that… could she?
Blair's hand went to the dry edges of her hair at the thought.
November 26th, 2008 - 10 o' clock
The chief of police tightened his belt around his waist looking at the cameras surrounding him.
"Little you worry, people. I have my best men on this case. It has been ten days, and our search is coming up pretty well. We will find the culprit, and they will be punished, severely. No one murders in this district and can expect to get away with it," the chief said. Reporters, observed by the news crew, jotted down notes and more questions were asked.
The bland news anchor reappeared on the screen, and the blonde clicked it off restlessly.
"Their search isn't coming up well," the dark-haired figure assured the blonde.
"What if it is?" the other asked.
"Then we're screwed," was the casual reply, "Don't worry, baby, I have it covered."
The blonde stared at her in disbelief.
"How is it even possible that you have this under control? We killed a man! I don't see how you can beso calm!"
"I don't see how you can't be. This isn't your first walk on the wild side."
"My last 'walk' was inspired by lust and seductive words. This one was just an accident brought on by sheer dumb luck on our part."
"Stop freaking out, you'll add wrinkles to such a pretty face. The chief of police for sure does two things. He eats - as we can tell from the satisfied grin and giant protruding stomach - and he lies. He has no leads. If he did, he would have found us by now."
"We're pushing our luck."
"I thought we were pushing people who told our secrets."
"You're not funny."
"And, you're not innocent, but I don't point that out every chance I get. Now, let's finalize those plans. A move to Rio needs to be inconspicuous after all."
November 26th - GossipGirl
Despite my tradition to let the mice run free on this day, I can't help but watch. It has been an entire ten days since LonelyBoy kicked the metaphoric bucket. I hate to sound impatient, but you guys really aren't digging up anything. Is it that he's Brooklyn and you're happy to see him go? Or did the killer really just sweep all evidence under a rug?
This is New York, people. Nothing stays hidden for long. Not from GossipGirl at least. I'm waiting, Upper East Siders.
XOXO, Gossip Girl.
© Everything written above belongs to me (FF user, Paint Me a Symphony). If somebody is out there pushing this as their own, they are lying. I may not own Gossip Girl, or its characters, but I do own this.