Title: You Broke My Heart
Summary: As a teenager Chuck Bass was feral, heartless and immoral. But then he met Blair Waldorf and softened. When Chuck and Blair in the future have children- you'd expect Chuck Bass to be a doting father- Because we know he has an amazing heart. Then why is Chuck so cruel to their son?
Disclaimer: Sigh. Pains me to say but I don't own them.
A/N: I might not have continued with this story of it wasn't for you guys! The idea's been there forever but I wasn't sure if it could have been pulled off. Now, I'm hopeful! As for those who wonder if Blair may not have much to do in this story- just remember there's a reason she's one of the main characters!
…
If you have never been hated by your child you have never been a parent.
-Bette Davis
….
Charles Bass left his suite the next the day, looking nonchalantly suave in a charcoal gray business suit.
As he walked down to breakfast, something abruptly flooded into his mind and he groaned quietly.
Damn it. Damn it, damn it, damn-
"Hey Dad," the young boy smirked ironically at him.
He was an extraordinarily striking boy. The kind of boy that had made every nurse, doctor and family member in the vicinity quite truthfully declare him a beautiful baby at birth. His hair was dark and wavy, almost curling like his mother's. His eyes were a smoky grey his grandfather Bart would have proudly pointed out as his own. For a seven year old, he was fairly tall. The sharp planes of his face made one think of his father.
But utterly everything else, from the soft cream of his skin tone, the laughter of his eyes, the color and texture of his hair and the built of his aquiline features reminded the world of his mother.
Blair. Whenever Chuck saw the boy all he saw was Blair.
For that matter whenever he saw little Cherie he saw Blair all the more.
But it didn't hurt. Seeing her alive in their beautiful faces didn't hurt.
No. What hurt was-
Chuck closed his eyes.
"Lucien," he acknowledged abstractedly.
The child grimaced. "Liam," he corrected as was his custom.
No, it was Lucien. That was what Chuck had named the boy. Lucien Bartholomew Bass.
"Lucien William Bartholomew Bass," the child corrected. "After Grandfather Harold William Waldorf-"
"Fine," Charles ground out. He clutched the case a little more tightly than he had to and asked with precision, "Where's your sister?"
Lucien shrugged. He wouldn't meet his father's gaze but in the dark grey eyes there was accusation. "Upstairs. Probably crying her eyes out."
When Charles went pale Lucien looked at his father crossly and stated. "You were supposed to tuck her in last night."
He had just remembered.
"I forgot."
The boy smiled resentfully. "You forgot."
Charles wondered why no one in the world could make him feel guilty anymore; why nothing in the universe touched him, but a cutting glance from this young boy and an unhappy cry from the even younger girl stopped his whole world.
Charles glanced at his watch to avoid looking at the blatantly reproachful grey eyes. "She has to leave for kindergarten soon."
Lucien glanced at the staircase. "She knows."
There was a smatter of youthful footsteps and a familiarly girlish scream. "Ophelia! My headband!"
Charles found himself smiling unconsciously at her so truly inherent demanding tone.
"Coming Miss Cherie!"
"And my scarf!"
"Right here, Miss Cherie!"
"Ophelia, why are you in my way?"
"Sorry Miss Cherie!"
And there was a gentle thunder over their heads as the little girl scampered down the stairs, carrying a snowy, fluffy bundle of a kitten in her arms. She saw her brother first and smiled delightedly for she adored him and he was incessantly protective of her. Then she saw her father standing in the marbled dinning hall and froze.
In an instant Cherie's soft brown eyes pooled with misery, then darkened with anger and then finally became uncaring with disinterest.
She marched towards the breakfast table, her head held high, and her eyes pointedly ignoring her slightly guilt-stricken father. She clambered onto her seat with utmost elegance and gracefully selected herself a blueberry bun.
Charles thought of how adorable she looked with her thick, chestnut curls held back by her headband, the colorful scarf draped across her shoulders, the white kitten cuddled in her arms, the crimson pout to her face as she plucked out the blueberries.
"Good morning Liam," she said, defiantly disregarding her father.
"Good morning Cher," her elder brother replied, amused at the little panorama before him.
For a moment Charles watched his daughter with admiration, inspecting the refinement with which she ate her breakfast, at how neatly she kept her elbows off the table, at how she sat, astonishingly poised for a four year old. Blair was there in her every move yet the child had barely known her mother.
Cherie gently placed the kitten on her lap with small hands and the animal meowed happily.
Charles cleared his throat. "Er- good morning Cherie."
She replied in a small, distant voice. "Good morning."
Charles thought about it for a moment then sat down besides her. "Sweetie, I'm sorry."
No response.
"I…I got so wrapped in my work-"
She turned her small, curling dark head away. The kitten meowed reproachfully at Chuck.
But Charles had seen her eyes and he swallowed when he noticed that they were somewhat red. So she had cried herself to sleep.
He was a monster.
In that moment Charles Bass felt utterly and unbelievably hateful. More than that… he felt like a beast. He remembered the first time he had held Cherie; the first time he had realized what it felt like to be ferociously loving, ceaselessly possessive and frantically protective of something all at once. It was the overwhelming, incredible sensation of fathering a daughter.
He had waited for her for years and when the blessing had come he had sworn to himself that he would be worth it. If you weren't worth a blessing, it was taken away.
How well he knew that.
It was actually shocking how far he had come from that promise. It was unnerving to realize how far behind he had left that day.
He had sworn to himself that she would never be anything less than completely happy. And now because of him, she was entirely miserable.
Yet strong in her heartache, like her mother. Unwilling to be anything less than perfect, just like her mother.
Was he building a wall between himself and his daughter just like Bart had built one between himself and Chuck?
Somehow the thought of the rest of the world didn't concern him that much. They were used to his cold demeanor, they feared it; they respected it.
The idea of Lucien barely bothered him. The boy was tough and responsible and had a strangely kind heart. Lucien had learnt to live with his stoic father and not be too sad about it.
But this small, lonely four year old girl whom he had wanted to cherish so badly…was a different story.
Chuck refused to let his mind wander anywhere else.
He reached a hand…a hand that seemed too large and powerful for the task… to turn her tiny face to face him. She looked into his eyes and whatever she saw must have disappointed her for she looked away.
"I'll take you to school today," Charles offered, in a hopeful, bright voice.
He so very rarely did that. He hadn't done so in months. He would be skipping out on a meeting because of it but in that one desperate moment he didn't care.
To his shock, she politely murmured. "Thank you, Daddy. But it's quite alright."
It had happened. The child he had pushed away had now learnt to push back.
Charles frowned. "But-"
"She said it's alright," Lucien retorted in a defensive tone. The kitten hissed.
Charles glared at Lucien for a moment before realizing he was glaring straight into his father's eyes and then blinked rapidly.
He turned to glare at the ungrateful animal. Even the damn kitten was against him.
He turned to Cherie.
"But Cherie, it will be fun. Don't you want Daddy to take you to school? You used to love it."
She gave him a look, a look that said that it wasn't enough, that she wouldn't forgive him that easily.
"No thank you, daddy."
Charles was now starting to get irritated. He was making an exceptional effort here. Why was she so difficult to placate? Why did she always get on his nerves? She was such a stubborn little thing. Just- Just like-
Just like her mother.
"But-"
"Why do I keep on having to repeat her? She said no," Lucien snapped, fearlessly meeting his father's glare.
Charles would have yelled at the boy, grounded him for a week and punished him as the brat so truly deserved. But his daughter was sitting right there, already unhappy with him. The boy was exasperatingly smart. He misbehaved when he knew his father couldn't do a damn thing about it.
Charles took a deep, calming breath.
"Princess, let me make it up to you. We'll-uh- we'll-" he racked his brain for her favorite foods. "We'll buy a piece of pumpkin pie and some cream puffs on the way."
For one moment the child's eyes lit up. But then she frowned. "But Artie's unhappy too. You didn't tuck him in either."
Charles hid his hard fists under the table and said almost pleadingly, "Cherish, please-"
She glared at him, then hoped off the chair and turned to her au pair. "Ophelia, its half past seven. Aren't they here yet?"
Right on cue, a breathless Dorota emerged into the living room. "Miss Chereesh, your Aunty Serena and Miss Ashley here to pick you up."
Cherie's whole face brightened and she ran out of the living room into the main hall. The kitten playfully bounced after her.
"Ash!"
"C!"
There was a moment of excited squealing before Aunty Serena tried to calm the chaos down.
"Shush, you guys, do you want Chuck to throw a fit at all the noise?"
Charles colored ashamedly at Serena's words and quietly entered the hall, onto the touching scene.
"Aunty Serena!"
"Cherie!"
The little girl ran to her Aunt and hugged her so warmly one would think she was searching for her own mother in the embrace. Which perhaps she was.
And Cherie beamed in her Aunts arms, and then fidgeted until Serena laughed and set her down so she could greet her best friend.
"You cut your hair!"
"You're headband is so sweet!"
"Did you see my scarf? Daddy had one identical to it in school. Liam has one just like it. And one day Artie-"
Serena grinned at the chattering girls before she spotted Chuck looking uncomfortable, standing at the end of hallway.
For a moment, Serena was taken aback. She hadn't seen Chuck in weeks. He kept to himself so fittingly and spoke to any one of them so rarely that she had forgotten what it was like to have him as a friend, as a brother.
She looked at him and saw what she always saw now. That he wasn't her Chuck anymore and would perhaps never again be. That the boy with the mischievous glint in his eye and the wicked humor at his disposal was long gone and all that was left was an imposter.
She felt a stab of sadness in her heart for if Blair would have seen him now, she would have hated him. Perhaps almost as much as he hated her.
Serena offered him a half smile. "Chuck."
She felt as though he almost looked behind him to see if she was talking to someone else, as though he couldn't quite remember who Chuck Bass was or if it had ever been him.
Then realization dawned on his features. "S."
She hesitated then walked up to him, leaving the little ones talking nineteen to the dozen. She reached out to touch his shoulder for she wanted to believe he was real, wanted to feel as though she wasn't talking to a stranger.
"Cherie's unhappy," it was he who said it and he sounded bleak.
"Why?" Serena asked unswervingly.
Chuck glared at the floor. "The…the"
And she knew. When he said it like that she knew. She knew what he was talking about; she understood what was coming between him and Cherish.
"Chuck." Serena tried to control her anger. "She's not a baby anymore. She will ask questions."
"But I can't give her the right answers."
"That doesn't mean you can hide the truth forever."
Chuck let out a fierce, shaky breathe. "The truth will kill her, Serena."
"It isn't-"
"Do you think she's ready?" he demanded. "Do you think she's old enough to handle it now?"
"No," Serena agreed. "But how do you think it affects her- thinking you hate her brother? She's such a loving little thing, Chuck. She loves you all so much. How can she understand a father hating his own child? If she were a spoilt brat, she might have been delighted at having all your attention. But she's not you. She's not Blair. She's Cherie. She isn't a bit like you or Blair…not in that sense. She has all your obstinacy, all of Blair's spontaneity, all of your insightfulness and all of Blair's temper. But her heart...it's far too emotional, far too caring. It hurts her deeply to have you take no notice of her brother. She can't recognize you anymore," Serena looked away indignantly, "I can't recognize you anymore."
Chuck stared at her, irate. "So, what am I supposed to do about all of that?"
"Here's a thought," Lucien Bartholomew Bass put in dryly, shrugging into his backup as walked up to his father and Aunt. "Next time she comes to greet you, don't send her away by conveniently making promises you know you can't keep."
…
…..
"I'm telling you Batman is cooler than Hulk," Liam argued with his little sister. "Hulk is just clumsy and green."
"Batman has no super powers," Cherie argued. "Hulk has super strength!"
"Batman has the bat mobile!" Liam retorted.
"Yeah, but Hulk fights against the government and didn't chose to be a monster," Ashley Archibald put in.
"So?"
"So, hello- the ones who are really great had greatness thrust upon them-"
"That's from Shakespeare, smarty pants- and you're quoting him all wrong-"
Ashley suddenly froze and nudged at Cherie who was still quarrelling good naturedly with her beloved brother.
"Hey- isn't that Uncle Chuck?" she pointed to the still figure, clad impeccably in his suit and leaning casually against the limo outside the school gates.
Little Cherie actually rubbed her eyes before she was ready to believe that it was her father.
"Daddy?" she whispered uncertainly.
Her brother noticed her hesitation and gave her a gentle push. "He probably wants to talk to you," he said encouragingly. "You should go."
Cherie suddenly looked tearful. "But I'm still angry at him."
Lucien sighed. "I know, Cher. But he's trying. Maybe you can try too."
With timid, shaky steps he watched his sister make her way towards her father. A foot away from the gates, Cherie broke into a run.
Ashley Archibald watched her best friend and once-favorite uncle with a frown. "What happened to Uncle Chuck?" she sadly asked Lucien. "He used to be a different person. He…he used to love me."
Lucien watched his little sister run up to their father, his expression unfathomable. "I know. He used to love me too."
…..
They say that from the instant he lays eyes on her, a father adores his daughter. Whoever she grows up to be, she is always to him that little girl in pigtails. She makes him feel like Christmas. In exchange, he makes a secret promise that even if she outgrows his lap, she can't outgrow his heart.
-Chuck Bass
…..
She stopped right before him, breathless and cautious.
Charles saw the fear in her eyes and took a deep breath. From behind him he revealed a blossoming bouquet of pale pink peonies.
"I got your favorite flowers."
She stared at them and he showed her a gaily wrapped package. "And your favorite macaroons got delivered straight from Paris."
Cherie stared at the presents and without any warning burst into sudden tears.
In a flash she was in her father's arms.
"I'm so sorry Princess," he told her, his heart breaking as she cried. "I promise I'll never send you away again."
She sniveled and asked miserably, "Why didn't you tuck me in?"
Chuck felt like a troll as she cried into his arms. "Daddy made a mistake. Daddy forgot. I'm sorry, Princess. I'm just so sorry."
"Why did you yell?" she whimpered. "Why do you yell now, Daddy? All the time. All the time…"
"Cherie," Chuck held her tightly. "I won't, I promise I won't, never again-"
"I miss my Daddy," she whispered and his heart lurched because he was standing there, right in front of her. And yet, he was gone.
He pulled back and saw her beautiful face, her eyes dark brown and wet, her brown curls hanging freely over his scarf, held back by a powder blue headband so like her mother's. She was everything he had ever wanted in his daughter. And he had time and time again pushed her away…so that now she longed for him even when he was right there, holding her.
Charles raised his hand to carefully wipe away every precious tear clinging to her long, dark eyelashes.
"C'mon," he whispered. "We're going."
"Where?" his daughter asked him in a hushed tone.
He grinned conspiringly at her. "It's a secret."
To his delight, she giggled and willingly ate it up and he hoped that when he took her to have favorite restaurant 'Gramercy Tavern' for lunch, she would perk up.
"Daddy I'll miss school,"
He shrugged carelessly. "So what? We're taking a father-daughter's day."
She burrowed safely under in his arm, inside the automobile and raised a beautiful, shining face to beam at her father. In that instant she looked exactly like the four year old Blair he remembered.
And Charles smiled and reached down to give her a soft kiss on the forehead, for that factor only made him love her more.
She smiled as her father kissed her forehead, glad that for the moment he was back, that the man with the thunderous voice and angry face had gone away.
The only thing that pained Cherie was the comprehension that he never dropped his mask for anyone else. She was the sole person in the universe for whom Charles Bass made an effort.
This might have delighted a coddled child.
But Cherish Bass only wondered what in the world had gone so terribly wrong.
From the lost Journal of Blair Waldorf
(Three nights after Cherish Cornelia Elizabeth Bass was born)
Dear Diary,
Liam just looked over at his sister and smiled at me.
"She looks just like you, Mama," he informed me.
Chuck's lifted him into the air. "Did you see her? Did you see your sister?"
Little Ashley is delighted too. It's like she knows her best friend finally has arrived.
Elizabeth was among the first people to hold her. I'm so glad Chuck has finally forgiven his mother. Ever since the children came, our whole world has blossomed with pure, utter happiness. Who knew one could even be so happy?
"She's darling, Blair!" Elizabeth is telling me. "Oh, look, Charles, she has your nose-"
Chuck is insisting that it's his mother's nose.
Serena is jumping around, squealing and hugging anyone in the vicinity. Nate's ecstatic because we just named him godfather. I argued with Chuck for a while before admitting that ever since he had his own little girl, Nate's become a lot more sensible.
Chuck is holding Cherie once more. He declared that she just smiled at him.
"It's just gas, Chuck," Lilly notified him laughingly.
Chuck stubbornly refuses. "It is indeed not," he argues, "my daughter is definitely smiling."
He looks so happy. He wasn't even that happy when Liam came around. He looks so…so happy.
They just took a family photograph. First it was everyone, with Ashley having crawled into Chuck's lap of course, Liam climbing all over his Uncle Nate, Serena flashing her best smile, Elizabeth, Lilly, Rufus, Eric, Mom, Daddy, Cyrus…I was in such a good mood, I even graciously allowed Humphrey into the picture.
Now they're taking another shot. This one includes just Chuck, me, Liam and Cherie. I think little Ashley still managed to sneak in. Chuck is holding both her and Cherie and laughing out loud.
If you look at this picture, you would truly believe that this was a family meant to laugh together forever. If you look at the picture you will truly believe that this was a family meant to be happy.
I know I did.
-BW
Any good? Let me know what you think!