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: First of all, my apologies- It's been a while since my last update. Usually I'm pretty quick at updating but been swamped with aptitude tests lately so this fanfic's become a guilty pleasure. And I haven't updated 'Damn you Chuck Bass, Damn you to Hell," since forever! So this chapter is longer than my usual ones to make up for the long wait. And a heartfelt thanks to my wonderful reviewers without whom this fic could have never been!
….
I was seven when my father stopped loving me. Just seven. Sometimes I think that was the day I left my childhood behind. That was the day I became a teenager. Grandma Lilly always says I grew up too fast. Truth is I had to because my father had no patience for a child
-Lucien Bass
It was Nate Archibald who broke the silence.
"Chuck…"
But he could not face his best friend, could not voice the reality he wanted so badly to run away from. He hated that truth, the truth of his life, the life that was ruined because the authenticity of that truth. And he wanted to kill Nathaniel for the prodding, kill Lucien for bringing it up.
But there was no way out now.
For she would ask. She would always ask now, ask until he broke, ask until he was empty of lies and unable to avoid her.
She stared up at him, winded, her tiny fingers clinging onto the folds of his knees, an unlit birthday candle in one minuscule fist, a magic splash of gold spray glowing on her cheek.
Chuck reached out to touch her but shrugged him away.
For the first time he saw accusation in her eyes, as she silently demanded to know where he had spirited her mother away.
"Cherie…"
Her hold on the folds tightened, bound to leave angry creases on his chinos.
Chuck closed his eyes knowing he would never forgive himself for the words he was going to say. How do you tell a child that the world she woke up in yesterday is not the one she woke up in today?
How do you describe atrocities that aren't supposed to exist?
He stared at her eyes…sparkling brown and so engaging that they melted the snootiest inhabitants of the UES to a puddle of goo as they fussed and coddled the baby girl in hope that she gift them a dimpled smile.
What he would say would have the horrific consequences of erasing that smile.
Charles's voice did not sound like his own as the words left him.
For a long, long moment Cherish Bass only listened. She watched her father for an age and he looked straight into her beautiful irises until he could fool himself over who he was talking to.
Then her breath seemed to betray her. Those eyes dilated, her lips shook and trembled. She stared at Chuck, the tiny angel of his world. Her face crumpled.
The knot of her fingers grasping the folds of his chinos painfully tightened until the grip weakened and her hands fell to her sides in a daze.
In a flash, she was gone.
"Cherie!"
He made to catch her but she dashed past them all, pushed by her brother, pushed past her Uncle Nate, danced out her father's grasp. She was a lithe, nimble, quick little thing as she had always been. Light on her feet- lightning fast. She was gone in a scarlet blur- just as Chuck could not help but think- like Blair.
Her brother watched after her and for the first time, Lucien's face cracked. The hardness of his eyes died; he looked much less like Bart and remarkably like a male version of Blair in an instant.
He could hear her fierce footsteps thundering over the staircase, over their heads. A pause, a slam and then eerie silence.
Charles sank into the plush, leather couch, not feeling Nate's supporting hand on his shoulder, not seeing the blackness of the world blinded by his palms, not seeing anything except the eyes that were his world, the only place he saw those eyes anymore were in her face.
They still stared at him, accusing and desperate and forever unforgiving.
…
Lucien rapped on his sister's door.
"Cher?"
Silence.
"Open the door."
He couldn't hear anything…not a whisper, not a whimper.
"Open the door, Cher."
He did feel horrible in that instant. Maybe he had made a mistake. Maybe she would have been better off never knowing.
"Cherie, open up, okay?"
But she wouldn't open so he gestured to Ophelia who rushed forward with the master key.
Lucien cracked open the door and his gaze widened when he saw his sister.
She was sitting in the corner of the room, hugging her stuffed bambie and staring ahead. She was not crying. She was just…quiet.
Lucien crouched before her, watching her anxiously.
"Cher?"
And for a moment she looked at him. He met her gaze and found nothing. For a moment he couldn't find her.
But then without any warning, she suddenly brought her thin arms around him.
He sat there shocked, as his little sister hugged him as though trying to soothe away the pain she now knew he had been suffering since forever.
….
I began to think that maybe he hated me. But then I realized it wasn't that. My father didn't hate me. He had just loved my mother too much. So much that he would rather have lost anyone else... but her.
-Lucien Bass
….
Chuck paced in the living room, furious.
"What have I done?"
Nate looked unhappy. "What you had to do."
"No," Chuck snarled. "It was the boy. He made me."
"He only did what you should have done a long time ago, Chuck."
"Whatever for? The welcome accomplishments of today?"
Nate gestured towards the doors. "Go to her. She needs you."
Chuck paused, looking terrified. "I can't."
"Why not?"
"How do I save her," Chuck asked. "When I can't save myself?"
…..
Cherish Bass stood at the nursery door staring at the strange phenomenon with unfathomable eyes. She stood there, so still and so quietly that Adrian finally noticed her and sat up in the crib, curving his beautiful bow of a mouth into a dimpled smile.
It was quite staggering that for the first time his sister did not smile back.
Adrian paused for a moment, thrown off, before inspiration struck and he picked up the purple ball still in his crib. He held it out to Cherie, a gift. A very generous endowment.
He was convinced that this would make her smile.
But all she did was stand there.
The toddler babbled at her encouragingly, still holding out the ball. He promised not to scream if she took it. He queried if they could play now- as was their hourly routine of the day, he wondered why she was late.
She stared at him and then she stared at the ball and then she inched near as though she wanted to say or do something very badly- as though she was on the verge of detonation.
Adrian waited for her good-naturedly, the ball still patiently held out.
But all she did was whirl around and go away in a blinding rush reminding Adrian forcefully of the dark eyed man.
He didn't realize in that instant that this was the last time he'd see his sister for a long time.
….
Lucien Bass had the combined sharpness of both his father and his mother. This was why he was the first to notice. It had occurred to him the moment he had knocked on Cherie's door and she had not answered, it had occurred to him when she had stared at him with agelessly mature eyes as though her childhood had died behind her.
It had occurred to him when she had hugged him, reminding him powerfully of the last time he had been hugged by their mother.
Lucien's first test was to offer to take his little sister to play with Artie. But she became immobile at the words, merely hardened stone and gave him a look of such vehement betrayal that he gave up the idea.
In all honesty he was surprised. He had known the truth a long time ago but had dealt with it, overcome it. And Cherie had a heart by far warmer and kinder than his. He knew his little sister inside out. He had expected Cherie's tender heart win over her pain, somehow he had expected her to bounce back.
She was Cherie after all- she was a bright bubble of golden laughter. She didn't brood and glower like her elder brother did; she loved with all the simplicity of what she felt and walked in alignment with the direction of the wind. But perhaps his arrogance was his strength so his little sister's innocence was her flaw.
Lucien had learnt a long time ago not to let the world hurt him but he had been protecting Cherie for so long that he had forgotten that this time the key to protect her had been to hurt her worse than she had ever been hurt. In all his desire to bring her into the real world, he had brought her world crashing down.
Lucien was scared- an emotion he could honestly say he very rarely underwent. He scrutinized his sister with all the intricacy of an analyst. He offered to play her favorite games, ordered Dorota to prepare her favorite meals, even offered to participate in her tea-party with her- something only Adrian ever put up with and never him. But her oyster stuffing and pumpkin pie were sent back untouched and she shook her head at everything else. All she did was hug her Bambie, looking like a glass doll capable of breaking into a million pieces.
So Lucien did the only thing he knew will bring the curtain down.
Hating himself as he did it, prepared for the looming explosion Lucien ripped the baby deer out of his sister's grasp. The old Cherie would have exploded. The old Cherie would have killed him. This one only lets out a shattered breath, a puff of air left her and she reached out vainly for her favorite toy in the world.
That's when Lucien knew.
And the realization was like a rip through his heart.
He gently gave his sister the bambie, which Cherie hugged to her chest, all the time eyeing him contemptuously.
And then he ran for his father.
….
It had been a week and Cherie still was not speaking. She roamed in the house, as silent as a shadow, the kitten at her heels making more noise than her.
Her father had lost her mind at the revelation.
Charles tried everything from picking his princess up and ordering the doctor to examine her, to struggling to coax her to speak himself. Dr. Martin said that Cherie was experiencing Somatoform disorder- which left her mute without any physical cause.
"It will go away," the doctor assured, "As soon as the shock wears off."
But Chuck is still in shock over the fact that months ago Blair would have been here, holding their daughter and fighting tearfully with the doctor over all his clumsy evaluations and that today he somehow he still looks at the door, expecting her to burst in.
But there is nothing.
Chuck is still in shock over the fact that his beautiful little world has broken and is still breaking beyond belief.
Shock can last forever.
Charles had not been to his office in exactly a week. His work was now forgotten, all summits and seminars cancelled. He went from begging Cherie to speak, to rebuking her, snapping at her, to pleading with her again.
He would know Cherie's voice anywhere. Fluty and melodic and bubbled, sometimes he wished he could trap it so when he was alone and drowned in his work, more alone than anyone in the world, all he had to do was twitch it unlocked like a music box and have her words lead him safely back to soft oblivion.
The first words he had said to Lucien were, "Did you call them?"
And the boy just nodded wordlessly so Charles knew that help was on its way. They may not be much. But she loved them. And if anyone could help bring her back then they could.
Cherie just looked at Ashley Archibald while Charles watched from the dark shadows outside her door.
Ashley smiled with her usual natural warmth at her best friend.
"C?"
Cherie didn't frown. But she didn't smile either.
"You missed school. Ms. Fletcher was asking about you. Plus, I know of someone who misses you…"
Ashley moved out of the way to reveal the boy standing behind her. He was slightly shorter, younger than her but had the same crystal blue eyes and dark blonde hair a shade darker than Ashley's.
For the first time in a week, a small light glowed in Cherie Bass's eyes.
"Hey C," Christopher Archibald greeted brightly plopping down before her. "It's been long enough. I missed you."
Charles let out a breath of relief as a tiny smile tugged at his daughter's beautiful face. It wasn't much but it was a start- the first smile that had graced her lips since Blair's birthday. He knew calling the kids over would do the trick. He knew calling him over would do the trick as much as he hated to admit it.
He watched as Cherie cheered up a bit as she, Ashley, Chris and Lucien settled down the playroom floor and scattered Cherie's many playthings around them. As Ashley began giggling with her friend over the Barbie's the boys simultaneously groaned.
"For God sake's Cher, not again."
"Let's play Transformers!"
"G. I Joe's! Awesome!"
"Let's play Cat and Mouse!"
"I can't believe you got these WWE action figures, these are collector's items you know-"
"But um," Lucien looked pointedly at his little sister, "If Cherie wants to play Fashion Week than full speed ahead."
Cherie just rolled her eyes and dug into the shelves stuffed with toys. She came back with the Incredible Hulk Kicking Deluxe Action Figure and a collection of military men and General Ross. Ashley cheered, Chris laughed and Lucien sighed but was inwardly delighted. Cherie loved the Hulk, God knew why. If she was demanding to play with her favorite superhero slash monster then she was on the road to recovery.
Charles watched happily as the children played with the silly dolls- Hulk literally smashed General Ross with an incensed foot and Iron Man Repulsor Power Figure blasted off. Hasbro's Star Wars and Transformers collection and "Cube Dude" of Buzz Lightyear- all that Lucien had gotten from Comic-con that year held their interests until Ashley tugged out the humongous rainbow Parachute from the toy chest and demanded to play Cat and Mouse already.
Charles watched his daughter carefully. Her face was aglow and she seemed a lot happier than she had all week. But all this time she had not uttered a single word, not laughed at all but merely smiled beatifically. It was credit to her best friends and brother who were smart enough to figure out the meaning behind the silence, entertain Cherie in all the secret ways only they knew of and cheer her up miraculously for the day.
For the first time the presence of Chris Archibald did not irritate Charles.
He watched as Cherie peeked out of the Parachute, her face alight with silent laughter, her cheeks rosy golden. Chris who was the 'Cat' jumped at Cherie with a roar. They fell into a heap of triumphant and soundless giggles.
Charles did not even mind as he found Cherie and Chris's hand intertwined within the brilliant stripes of scarlet, navy and sunlight.
…
As her friends left Cherie felt sad. She wanted to cling onto Ashley and Chris as they made their way towards the doors. Ashley would have spent the night but she had to visit her Grandma Cece tonight. She turned to Chris in hope that he would understand. She was lonely, heartbroken, afraid. He had to see that, understand that.
But he did not understand because he knew her tantrums, her outbursts, her humor but not her silence.
Cherie wished she could say the words out loud. But words were as hard and biting as stones suddenly. Every time she tried to speak, a horrid rock got stuck in her throat, making Cherie choke and throttle and speechless. She could see her father's soft brown eyes begging for her to say anything, a whisper, a word. But she can't say anything not even when Chris waves her goodbye.
He was gone before she had a chance to try. Chris was like the story book Prince having come to life- such uncanny was the resemblance. In the fairy tales when Ariel lost her voice, Eric loved her still, so would he?
She wondered if this was what Ariel felt like when she tried to tell Eric her secrets but found nothing but silence lodged in her voice box.
She wondered if Ursula the sea witch, was responsible for this- if Daddy would have to dive under the sea to find the bottle holding Cherie's lost voice.
She wondered that if she was quiet for long enough, her mother would come to fuss over her one last time.
…
The day I lost my mother I realized that my father and I, we're exactly alike. He hides his pain by lashing out at the world; I hide myself by lashing out my pain. Maybe if I would've loved someone that much her loss would have made me hate everybody too. Except the miniature version of her.….
-Lucien Bass
Cherie stared at the clear, fluid world above her head, a dark tress spinning around her like seaweed. She wondered what it would be like to lie underwater forever. She could be like the little Mermaid. Lost voice, no mother, a desire to flee the home she knew.
She thought living under the sea, she thought about conversing with sea horses and dolphins. She thought about being a dolphin. Of gurgling always in a friendly babble, of having a permanent smile etched across her face.
That reminded her suddenly of her mother. Of the very last time Cherie had seen her. Of course, her mother had been smiling.
But now she knew it hadn't been a real smile. The smile had been scarred, had been cracked somewhere in the middle so it didn't quite curve right. Blair had bent down with some difficulty to give her beloved daughter a hug, a very, very warm hug Cherie thought. And then she had whispered, "I'm sorry,"
But how could her mother have ever thought that sorry would be enough?
"I'm sorry," Blair had said with a shaky laugh," I don't feel that well. But today is the day you will hold Artie, darling. Doesn't that sound wonderful?"
And at that moment it had. Now it seemed like a terrible barter. Cherie had loved Artie for all of these four months but she had loved her mother all her life. And without Blair, these four months had been the hardest she had ever lived.
"When I come back," Blair had said, "We'll come back with Artie. You always said you wanted a little sibling, Cherie, so you could have someone to pick on too." Blair laughed, "So when we come back-"
But her mother had never come back.
She had broken her promise and Mommy had said that you never broke those.
Lucien had been dangerously shrewd. He had already sensed the forbidding
"Don't go," he pleaded suddenly, very out of character. Her brother was usually the strong one. He had clung to his mother's loose outfit suddenly as though he was a child being dropped off to Playgroup for the first time.
And Blair and Lucien had always had a special bond. She had looked into the souls of his gray eyes and understood.
She wrapped the small boy into a tender embrace and whispered, "Take care of your sister. Promise me you'll always take care of her?"
Lucien promised. But he still hadn't let go of their mother's dress.
"Mama," he whispered, "Why do you look so worried?"
Blair had smiled that broken smile. "I'm not worried, little Prince," she whispered. "Not about myself. I'm worried about our Artie. I'm worried that he might get hurt."
"I'm worried about you, Mama," Lucien had said in that serious tone little Cherie didn't understand. "I'm worried Artie will hurt you."
But Blair had kissed the top of his head and told him not to be ridiculous, after all Lucien and Cherie had never hurt her had they? Then what could be the worry? "That we know of," Lucien replied frowning. And their mother hadn't responded.
And Blair started to leave and Lucien had suddenly thrown a rare fit.
"Mom," he cried, clinging onto Blair like a chain. "Mom please-"
And she laughed asked if he wanted Artie to be delivered on the living room floor?
He hadn't been convinced. "Promise me, you'll be home real quick?"
And she promised but told him to take care of Cherie until she came back.
Take care of Cherie until I come back.
Cherie realized suddenly what those words must have done to her brother.
In her mind's eye she saw her mother waving goodbye to them.
"I'll be back," Blair whispered to her children, before one last kiss. "You'll see, I'll be back soon!"
And then she left them forever, the scent of Dior blossoming in the house for the last time.
Cherie closed her eyes, suddenly prepared to meet Dolphins.
….
Suddenly her father's face was where it shouldn't have been, he was dragging her out of the bliss of her lonely bathtub and shouting out what her mother had described as' booboo words' all the time. He shook her, her tiny shivering form in her favorite crushed strawberry red dress, her fine locks, long and drenched against the pallor of her face, the wetness of her huge chestnut eyes. He shook her as though he wanted to kill her and Cherie was shocked because her Daddy had never treated her like anything less than tenderly before.
And then suddenly he brought her to him and embraced her just as fiercely as her mother had that day.
"How long were you under there?" he demanded but of course she couldn't answer him. So he yelled for the maids, the nannies and looked as though he could kill Ophelia for how hard is it to track the whereabouts of a child? He had roared.
Impossible it turns out, Charles Bass thought.
And then he said, "C'mon get dressed."
He helped his baby girl out of get clothes. Then he wrapped a large fluffy towel around her and carried her to the wardrobe and asked her to pick her favorite night dress for today. She picked the rose colored Sleeping Beauty PJ's. Dorota helped her wear them and then her father tucked her in with their favorite story: 'How the Grinch stole Christmas'. Cherie fell asleep somewhere in the middle, comfortably tucked in her father's side.
She fell asleep trying not to think that the world has changed and that her father has changed and Lucien has changed and that somehow, so had she.
….
Charles Bass sighed in relief when Cherie finally fell asleep. When he had first seen her still form in the tub he had literally been on the verge of passing out right then. Can a four year old be suicidal for God's sake?
Or was she just finding escape like the rest of them?
His hand found her forehead and he cursed when he realized it was burning.
…
Cherie looked tiny when asleep, younger than four, one hand wrapped around a stuffed bambie. The other clutching the comforter as though it is a lifeboat. He watched her, marveling that four years ago he did not know this person that has transformed him…that he did not know that a daughter's cry is more heart stopping than blast of a gunshot. And he can say this because he has experienced both things not so long ago.
Chuck watched his daughter sleeping, one small hand curled over the lacy coverlet, a spillage of chocolate curls falling over her wine colored pillow. Lush dark lashes rested a millimeter above pale, tear streaked skin. Chuck caught a tear clinging to a golden brown lash and kissed his daughter's forehead.
Her hand instinctively tightened over her snowy covers and she whimpered, restless and sad even in her dreams.
He didn't know what he was doing- all he knew was that his heart was in his throat as he watched her snivel softly in her slumber.
Chuck ran a hand over her still slightly burning forehead, brushing aside a chocolate curl. Cherie sighed as he smoothed back her tresses and silently whispered, "Mommy…"
His hand froze.
And Chuck cursed Blair at that moment. He truly cursed her. He could drop all the trips and deadlines and conferences in the world for his child. But Blair had not been able to stay, Blair had gone and he was still here, fixing the pieces….
Her claret lips had formed the word not spoken it. Chuck climbed into the tiny bed and pulled his sleeping child to him, bringing her small body against the comfort of his chest.
Cherie's tiny hand left the coverlet and came to curl against Chuck's collar, her head resting feather light onto his shoulder. She was as light as a cloud, as soft as ever. She cuddled against him, calming down for the first time since Chris and Ashley had left.
He thought he saw her unconsciously form the word 'Mommy' again and he held her tighter, bringing her closer to him, hugging her small body securely.
Chuck didn't know how but suddenly his voice came, soft and placating, singing one of the old lullabies that Blair used to sing to her. He would only do this for the little girl sleeping against him, her face burrowed into his chest.
Chuck sang softly to his daughter, his crooning voice lulling her to peace. She sighed and her small form finally relaxed. He kissed her burning forehead and hoped that the tears that fell from his eyes onto her form wouldn't wake her.
"Sweet baby, sleep, what ails my dear?
What ails my darling thus to cry?
Be still, my child and lend thine ear,
To hear me sing thy lullaby.
Lullaby, twilight is spreading
Silver wings over the sky;
Fairy elves are softly treading,
Folding buds as they pass by.
Lullaby, whisper and sigh,
Lullaby, lullaby.
Close white lids your dear eyes over,
Mother's arms shall be your rest.
Lullaby, whisper and sigh,
Lullaby, lullaby.
Sweet baby, sleep, what ails my dear?
What ails my darling thus to cry?
Hush a bye,
Don't you cry,
Go to sleep, my little baby.
When you wake,
You shall have
All the pretty little ponies.
Can you see the little ponies
Dance before your eyes?
All the pretty little ponies
Will be there when you arise"
The lullaby finished and for a moment he simply drowned into the joy of holding his sleeping child, for one moment this gift overshadowed everything else.
"I love you, Cherie," he whispered to her. "And I'm not going anywhere."
And little Cherish Bass smiled tenderly in her sleep, fast asleep at last in her father's arms.
He promised himself that he would take her to the harbor tomorrow. She loved that.
And if God did exist than there was something Charles wanted above everything else.
If I can't have Blair, he thought desperately, Then please let me have her.
…..
…..
….
Mitch Sparks-Baizen glared at the twinkling fairy lights before him.
There was a nudge at his side. "Isn't it beautiful?" Georgina Sparks asked, smiling at him.
Mitch just shrugged.
His mother frowned at him. "Oh honey. Don't tell me you're still mad."
He just shrugged again.
She rolled his eyes. "You'll like it here, Michael. I promise. I know you don't like leaving your old school, your friends, your home…but you'll soon love it here!"
Like hell he would.
"This place is home too. Can't you feel it?"
Mitch wondered what she expected him to feel. It was freezing out here and he was cold, even in his bomber black jacket. All he felt was really cold. All he felt was really pissed. All he felt was really, really desperate to go back home.
Carter nudged his other side. "C'mon buddy. You have kindergarten tomorrow. Exciting right?"
Again Mitch wondered what was so exciting about it. It was sheer exasperation that was all. He had spent a good few months getting used to the kindergarten back home. And now he would have to start over. All that careful socializing and allying for what?
Carter kept his voice bright. "This is New York. You get the hottest here. Think….hot new teachers...pretty new girls…."
Mitch rolled his eyes again but a small smirk escaped his face and his parents laughed.
He squeezed his way out of them and walked a short way off so that he could chill in peace. His dark eyes flickered towards the fairy lights. The lush blue of the New York harbor. It was kind of pretty, you had to admit.
A gust of wind blew through his hair and he smiled through the cool breeze. Then he opened his eyes and immediately blinked because he couldn't believe he was awake when he saw something like that.
He wasn't sure at first what he saw. But whovever she was she held his rare attention.
She was huddled in an emerald green plaid overcoat, the furry, feathery collar brushing by the pink hue to her cheeks. A mass of thick, lustrous brownish curls flew around her face like an aura. He saw her face and for a moment he was knocked breathless because it fully resembled the face of one of those angels that fluttered in those classy paintings his mother liked so much.
For one solitary instant Mitch considered the possibility of meeting this angel.
Then an oaf came to snatch her away.
He frowned as the man lift her into the air and show her the harbor. But she turned away, pressing her face into her father's shoulder. For a heartbeat Mitch saw her eyes and he couldn't help thinking that... they were the saddest pair of eyes he had ever seen.
It was all he could do from running after her as her father carried away.
….
If you look at my face you'd say I looked just like my mother. They say I have her intelligence, I have her smile. But ever since she left, I wish she'd taken these similarities with her. In her absence I've never needed a way to connect with my father more. My father…whose strength, sagacity and astuteness I have. I wish he could see it. But he never sees me.
-Lucien Bass
….
Chuck set Cherie down as they entered the hallway after the long drive home.
"Do you want any dinner?"
She shook her head, her curls dancing.
He stared at her. "Alright then. In a while. Meanwhile why don't you get upstairs? Pick out a game. I'll be right there."
She nodded and then ran towards the stairs.
Lucien approached his father.
"How's she doing?"
Charles let out a sharp breath. "Better. No credit to you."
Lucien's face looked pained. "Dad I only-"
"I know," Charles paused. "And I wanted to thank you."
"I never meant for this to-" Lucien's jaw dropped. "What?"
Charles sighed. "I can never seem to do this the right way. Because it is credit to you. You had the strength to do what I couldn't. You made me tell her something she had to know. I took it too far…so far that she was celebrating Blair's birthday the day I finally said it. It shouldn't have come to this. I raised her hopes and expectations so high that when I finally told her…she went into shock. If we would have waited any longer…if she would have kept waiting for Blair…it might have been even worse."
Lucien was speechless.
"So…thank you."
It's a miracle. His father...he's back.
Lucien caught that moment like a firefly in his fist. It wouldn't last he knew. So he had to make the most of it while he could.
There is so much he wants to say to his father, words he was waiting to say since months, words he had saved just for this day.
"Dad-" Lucien began his heart in his throat.
There was a deathly scream.
Both Charles and Lucien whirled around to see the crumpled mass at the bottom of the stairs.
For a moment all was still. Then both of them ran towards the little girl crying on the marbled floor.
Charles reached and touched her face in savage worry. "Honey, what hurts?"
He noticed her twisted ankle and touched it only to have her screech.
"Daddy!"
And despite the panicked moment Charles felt something in his heart burst.
He hugged his crying child and screamed for Dorota and all the Nannies in the world.
But the fête in his heart remained.
Because In all of four weeks her first word had belonged just to him.
...
...
From the lost Journal of Blair Waldorf
(The night same night she told her children goodbye)
Dear Diary,
I made a mistake. I misconstrued.
Of course I'm afraid of what the outcome will be. I'm afraid that leaving them alone would be too much for Chuck to take. He loves them but he hates to lose. And he won't be able to stand losing me.
Except in the end, I believe they will be fine. After all, they will have each other just like we had each other when we were so alone. Nate's parents were space cadets, Lily was falling out of one marriage into the next, Bart was bitter and brutal and my mom was…well never mind.
Nate, Serena, Chuck, myself. As children we were all were alone. But our loneliness was what we had in common. It was one of the first things that brought us together…then one of the things that held us together.
I'm not leaving them alone. I'm leaving them with each other.
Does it make me a terrible person if I knew I had to do this all along?
BW
...
...
Ps- there seems to be a problem with this update- the fourth chapter has issues downloading due to possibly old URL. Hence I'm deleting the chapter momentarily and updating it again. Let's hope you don't have any trouble reading the latest chapter.
A/N: Okay. There are clues there but I do realize that the story has a baffling side to it. For those who might have expected Blair's state of affairs to be revealed in this chapter I apologize…but in Blair's situation was meant to be revealed a bit later. For now I would appreciate it greatly if you would put up with the twists and turns of my crazy story. Hopefully the next update should be a bit quicker. Somehow I have a feeling that this chapter might not have been as good as I wanted it to be. God, I'm always worried about this story- it's the one of the hardest ones I've ever written! As always, be sure to let me know your thoughts!