Title: I Bid You A Sweet Adieu

Author: BookCaseGirl (Abby)

Date: August 6, 2009 (Beginning) August 21, 2009 (most recent update)

Rating: T

Classification: There really isn't much of one; a mixture of everything.

Summary: Sequel to Bittersweet Welcome! Six months later, Chuck and Blair are finding that some things will stand in their way of being happy and staying together successfully. As with any stab at their relationship, there are many hurdles to leap over.

Author's Note: I apologize for the lateness of this update. Life has just been a bit busy...I'm hoping to have this finished soon, though. I'm thinking that after ten chapters, the sequel will be complete. For those reading "What Were They Thinking" that will be updated either later today or on Sunday, as I'm still busy. Sorry everyone!

Disclaimer: I do not own Gossip Girl or any other product names that are mentioned.

This chapter is not beta'd.


Vic reluctantly sat up in his bed the next morning. He knew what he would be forced to face. It was Friday, the day before that party Lilly was throwing – and also the day that his mother would chop his balls off for doing what he had done last night. He was dead, for sure. It was just a good thing he hadn't said anything about that party tomorrow night, because maybe now – thinking he hadn't had any plans anyway – his mother wouldn't ground him.

Who was he kidding? Of course she would fucking ground him. It was in the mother-of-a-sixteen-year-old-son handbook, which she always referenced (in fact, possibly far too often for his taste). Victor would be in deep shit for just that one little indiscretion last night, and he knew that Blair Waldorf would definitely make him pay for it – in some of the worst ways possible.

But, it was always better to get the inevitable over with. It wasn't as if he could stay in his bedroom all day, hiding like a pussy. Even Vic could face a punishment – especially when something deep within him said that he deserved that and even more.

He just hoped that bastard wouldn't be sitting in.

Chuck Bass (yes, he still refused to call him father) had been working his last nerve. He hadn't had the motivation to scheme or plot, simply because he didn't feel that the man was worth it. During the first few months, this guy had been great. Letting him stay out as he pleased, giving him all the advice he needed on girls and...other things. For a while, he had even called him that 'f' word, because they seemed so alike. Victor had believed that they were definitely blood relatives.

But now, Chuck was being one of those men. He was trying to get on Vic's mother's good side by treating Victor like any other teenage kid. It pissed him off, because really, he deserved better than that. He got into a hell of a lot less trouble than most kids at his school (though that could have been because his dad was Nate Archibald and his mom was Blair Waldorf) and that was something that should have prevented the whole strict "daddy" thing that Chuck was doing.

Before someone came in and collected him – most likely pulling by the ears, and he had rather sensitive ears – Vic stood up and trudged out of his room. Once he got to the doorway that framed the entrance for the living room, he found that it wasn't a normal weekday morning. Oh, freaking marvelous, he thought dryly, steeling himself against the urge to just run back to his room and fake sick.

The TV was not on, there were no voices, and he did not smell one bit of food. This was not normal, not by any means. Every morning, Daniella made breakfast – usually eggs and bacon – and they watched Today (or in Vic's case, stared at Meredith Viera's breats and wondered how they hadn't sagged yet). On a normal morning, Adrianna would be grouchy and pick some sort of fight with Vic – and he would fight right back, and then their mother would intervene.

It wasn't normal, by any standard – but how could he have expected it to be? Victor ventured further in, subconsciously using his tiptoes to maneuver quietly. When he got inside the kitchen, he saw that the lights were dimmer than most mornings – it was always dark when the house awoke – and he only saw his mom sitting there. Chuck Bass had not deigned to present them with himself this morning, much to Vic's (pleasant) surprise.

But then again, she seemed...desolate and disappointed. He would have taken a pissed off mother and stone-faced Bass on any day. This was just...a torturous hell. What would she say? What would she do? If it was the silent treatment, then Vic would just as soon chew his own goddamn head off. He just wanted her to glare at him, to be angry, to yell and yell as if their weren't people sleeping (or had Chuck and Adri just left for school and work?) in the house.

He knocked on the door, and when her head stayed droopy and unmoving, he spoke. "Mom?" Vic's voice was cautious, and he prodded her with it, the words reaching out to poke her. Her head rose and she simply stared at him. Her big, brown eyes – much like his own – did not blink (not once) and she looked nonplussed by what had happened. Vic had some serious trouble believing that she was actually unaffected by his first mishap with drugs, and so he raised his eyebrows.

"Mom..." he said again, this time not in a questioning voice. His tone had a little more authority to it now, and he found himself standing taller in front of her. He was a big boy, had been since the day he had gotten out of those Pull-ups (age three and a half, he never forgot). Victor could handle whatever she threw at him; the words she chose to spit at him in disgust – he was prepared for those as well.

"Would you like some breakfast?" she asked quietly, getting up from her seat and picking up the package of French bread that sat in their oak bread box.

"Um. It depends. What's being served? Lecture waffles à la mode?" He looked at her seriously and she – she fucking laughed. Okay, what the hell was going on? Was she on something? Maybe that bastard living under their roof had slipped something in her nightcap last night.

"Well...there's toast. I can whip up some eggs if you want. I also had Daniella pick up some of those Lucky Charms that you love!" His mother said, smiling brightly. Oh, that was the game she was playing. Vic caught on quickly, because this had been played before – though before, it had been because of the fact that he broke curfew (he didn't have a curfew anymore, though he was sure that could be changed with one wrong move, like the one last night, and the snap of a finger).

"Mother, I haven't had that cereal since I was six. Seriously, can't you just yell at me and get it over with?" He glanced at his silver Rolex and then looked back to her. "I have to get to school in like, twenty minutes."

************

"Oh, sweetie! Don't feel the need to go to school," Blair said. "You might be a little weak for that yet." Blair walked over and patted Vic's shoulder, noticing that he grimaced as she walked back to the counter. She knew what she had wanted to do the moment she got up this morning. If he wanted to act like the spoiled, childish, brat that every guy in her generation had been, then more power to him. She would just enable that further. Anything to make her son happy.

"I'm not a little kid," he mumbled, looking down at the floor.

"What was that?" Blair responded, an unnatural laugh falling from her lips as she folded her arms across her chest in disbelief.

His head snapped back up to hers, angrily, and Blair was instantly reminded of Chuck (way back when). It almost gave her whiplash, the way his eyes looked and the manner in which his lips formed an annoyed sneer.

"I said I'm not a little kid." His voice was powerful and deep, reminding her that he most definitely was not a small child. Still, she had a point to make, and she intended to stay on the right course to make that point.

"If you're not, Victor, then why do you feel the need to act so irresponsibly? If you truly are a man, then you wouldn't be bothered with such feeble things in adolescence, would you?" With each word, each question, Blair stepped closer to her sixteen-year-old son. "You wouldn't feel the need to get tweaked – something I know Nate (she no longer used the term father, because the sooner Vic got used to Chuck as his father, the better) talked to you about – and embarrass not only yourself, but your entire family."

He looked up at her and she saw something in his eyes. Victor was owning up to what he had done, like a mature human being. That was the one way that he differed from both his mother and father. She and Nate had raised him to be a great kid – a kid who knew what was right and wrong. That was why she had been so surprised to find this out. Surprised and furious.

"I'm sorry mom." Most kids would have mumbled it, looking away – and the parents would have known that something like this would happen again. But in this instance, Victor looked right at Blair, and she knew he was serious when he said it. His voice did not shake, but was steel and truthful. And his eyes bore into her own – reminding her far too much of Chuck, who had only been gone for about half an hour while he dropped off Adri – not moving, and not blinking. She knew he was serious.

************

Victor looked his mother in the eyes and tried to convey to her just how sorry he was for what had happened. He hadn't wanted to upset her like this, not at all. But that didn't necessarily mean he was sorry for having gotten high. It was some really great stuff, and he intended to try it again. Mostly, Victor was sorry for having gotten caught and upsetting his mother.

But, in no way did that mean he wouldn't try it again. The way it made him feel was something he didn't intend to let go. It allowed him to forget those nervous waves that always occurred when he thought about Lilly, and he was just able to escape from the world.

He was brought back from his thoughts when his mom walked over to him and embraced him, clutching at his back. She pulled away and smiled at him.

"It's okay," she said softly. Then she looked at Vic – seemingly sizing him up and making sure he was still telling the truth – and ruffled his hair. "Now go get ready for school. Your dad should be back in time to take you." He grimaced – but was turned around, so she couldn't see – and then went to his room to pick out clothes (the little lecture/apology had taken away his personal shower time, irritating him a bit more than usual).

Next time (and there would be a next time), he would just make sure not to get caught.

***********

Chuck pushed open the door in the back of his limo and got out, feeling a bit stiff. He hadn't been able to sleep very well last night, and when Blair had awoken him at five this morning, he had been less than pleased. He snapped at her – the cute snapping that only couples like them, who knew each other well, did – and she patted his head affectionately. And then Blair ordered him out of the house, in that fake sweet voice of hers.

And that was how he had ended up where he was now – in front of their apartment building. Chuck jogged lightly up the steps – no need to take the elevator; he needed to wake up anyway – and finally got to their apartment's door, on the third floor. The door was unlocked, so he just turned the knob and entered. Sitting at the counter was Blair, but Vic was nowhere. He glanced at Blair skeptically, and she raised her eyebrows.

"Did you talk to him?" he asked her as he popped a grape – from the bowl on the table – into his mouth. She nodded, stretching her arms out in front of her and letting out a yawn. His eyes were glued to her plump, red lips and he felt his heart beat irregularly. Looking out of the corner of his eye to make sure no one was coming into the room, he walked over to her – suave, even at seven AM – and placed his lips over hers.

She wriggled a little beneath his grasp – trying to get comfortable in his arms, which were tight around her waist – and he loosened his arms. Blair pulled away and smiled at him, blinking her eyes lazily (happily) and furrowing her eyebrows in confusion.

"What was that for?"

"Do I have to have a reason?" he asked huskily, his lips pecking her chin and neck with kisses. Her fingernails wove through his hair and he let out a sharp breath through his nose, the air causing a few loose waves of her hair to ruffle. Blair giggled quietly as she maneuvered her head so that their lips meant once more. She pulled away again though, letting out a slight whimper of loss.

Chuck shot her a baffled look – as if she was insane – and waved his hand in the air so that she could just tell him whatever it was she needed to tell him and get it over with.

"Can you take Vic to school?" she asked him, running her hands over his hair to smooth it down. He smirked at her, thinking she was joking (because she knew that they hadn't exactly gotten along last night), and when she continued to just look at him with those beautiful doe eyes, his jaw dropped.

"What the fuck am I, Blair? The goddamn bus service?!" Maybe it was the fact that he was currently the apartment's resident insomniac, but Chuck was grouchier than normal this morning (even he could admit it) and he sure let Blair know that. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair – they both knew how much she hated it when he yelled – and he sighed, ruffling his hair and turning around to look at her again.

"Please?" That one word – in the voice that broke his heart with its timid tone and cautious eyes – was enough to convince Chuck that he should take Vic to school. He walked back up to her and kissed her, tongue exploring her warm mouth and causing a smile to form on both of their lips as they found comfort in each other's arms.

"Am I interrupting something?" Came Victor's voice, obviously irritated. Chuck broke away and took in the sight of the boy. His schoolbag was slung over his shoulder and he was dressed in khaki pants and the blue shirt required for the school uniform. Chuck felt a shot of nostalgia and slight fatherly pride as he noticed that Vic accented the shirt with a blue paisley tie. Apparently they had the same taste in clothing, though he was fairly certain that his son would be the last man on earth to admit that.

"No," Chuck said grandly, smiling (grimacing, more like?) at him. "Are you ready for school? I'll be taking you this morning."

"Marvelous." Blair must not have heard the sarcastic rumble – or she chose to ignore it – but Chuck sure as hell heard it. Victor spoke in a normal voice with his next sentence. "I'm actually going to catch a ride with some friends." He walked out, slamming the door behind him.

Chuck looked to Blair, and she shot him an apologetic look. He glowered at her – though none of this (the no sleep, and Vic hating him) was her fault and he would apologize later – and said, "See? I told you, he fucking hates me."

He stormed out and went into their bedroom, flopping down on the bed and sitting there, staring at the wall. She threw a "Chuck, wait!" after him, but was wise and did not follow. Chuck fell back against the pillows and closed his eyes, hands behind his head – though he felt no leisure whatsoever.

For some reason, he felt like a failure. He wanted his son to like him, he really, truly did. Chuck didn't want to die someday knowing that his son despised him the way he had his own father. He wanted to be the good guy.

So maybe you should have stuck around, you selfish prick, he though angrily, punching the pillow. His eyes remained closed, and that was the last coherent thought he had before he fell into a fairly restless sleep.

End Note: I'm slightly concerned with the flow of this chapter, and some parts were very difficult to get out. I'm afriad it sucked (more than usual) and I apologize :P ha.