A/N: Hey guys, sorry for the lack of posting anything in the past month. I just started school and it's been as stressful as ever! I managed to put this oneshot together in a few days, and although I didn't manage to make it in time for the premiere, do consider this a... third episode present! Or a late Season 3 premiere present. That's fine too. I'm sure I'm not the only one with the guilty pleasure of Archie Comics here, and I've done some research on the series in which Archie marries Veronica/Betty. So, this is Chuck and the Archie characters weaved together. It's pretty angsty. Sorry about that. Reads are the chocolates for my heart, and reviews are the chicken soup for my soul :D
This fic wouldn't be possible without the help of dearest, theprincess1511
Disclaimer - I do not own Archie Comics, I do not own Chuck. I do not own the title of the fic, as that is the title of a beautiful song by the instrumental band, "Explosions In The Sky".
It was Archie's fault. It was all Archie's fault.
It was her fault too, she concluded, resting her feet on the dusty coffee table that she hadn't cleaned for years. It was her coffee table, her own apartment and it was all Archie's fault that she was crying inconsolably right now. Washington could never compare to Los Angeles. But it was a place where she could be just another face in a crowd. She knew no one, and no one could've bothered to know her. She knew herself as Sarah Walker; they knew her as Carol Summers.
Throwing the comic to the side of her couch, the picture of Archie proposing to Veronica on the cover still visible, Sarah Walker convulsed with heaving breath, sobs throwing her body into a state of shivers. Why did Archie have to be so stupid? Didn't he realize that Betty was the girl for him? Sweet, lovable, unspoilt Betty was the one he should've proposed to.
"Did you hear how Agent Carmichael proposed to his girlfriend? Gosh, it was so romantic!"
She clenched her fists tightly, fingernails pressing painfully into her palm. Her body shook, her lungs desperately trying to gain back the lost oxygen through her sobs. She wanted nothing more than to assassinate the writers of the Archie Digest, interrogating them of their conspiracy against her. She'd wager that they were part of Fulcrum, trying to break down the CIA's top agent. And mind you, they were doing a pretty good job of that.
"Melissa Grady, age 27, brunette, civilian. Stanford graduate, never smoked a cigarette in her life, currently employed to Agent Carmichael's video game company. The girl's pretty darn impressive. She's clean, and poses no threat. Agent Walker, you were reassigned for a reason, stick to it."
Stupid brunettes. Stupid Chuck. Stupid Archie. Stupid Veronica.
Stupid Sarah.
For reasons she could barely fathom, she stood silently in the courtyard of Echo Park, the familiar feeling of warmth hitting her like a rush of adrenaline. The comic rested in her hand, crushed with every step she took towards the same old fountain that was host to many of her emotional talks with Chuck.
That was what she wanted right now – another one of those damned emotional talks, although she didn't really know why. What did she plan to accomplish? She wasn't sure if she was there to win him back or maybe, to simply explain her abrupt departure after his upload of Intersect 2.0.
She spun on her heels, her eagle-like ears twitching at the sound of footsteps and voices. Her heart raced as the unmistakable voice of Chuck Bartowski reverberated through the spacious courtyard. Diving into a darkened, shadowed area which concealed her form, Sarah watched with curious eyes as Chuck came into view, his arms draped lovingly over a tall brunette who kissed him tenderly on the lips.
Jealousy burned through her veins, her heart faltering at the sight of his loving gaze on the woman – It was real love, shining brightly in his eyes. He was finally happy, and she decided that she wasn't going to be the one to ruin his life as the Intersect had done before.
As the pair entered the apartment, which he still shared with his sister, Sarah slipped silently into the familiar environment of his bedroom from the Morgan door. With tears threatening to pour like a thunderstorm, she brushed a hand across the soft linens that she had once occupied – it seemed almost too long ago.
She stared down at his bed, wishing to once more be curled up next to him, the warmth of his embrace to once again melt her heart; to melt her soul. With a shaking, shivering hand, she gingerly set the comic onto his pillow, knowing that he'd find it there. In the book, she slipped a note that held the elegant scrawl of her handwriting, which she'd hope he'd find, and she knew he'd understand.
A sentence, no less, was the only thing that occupied the white sheet:
"Congratulations, Chuck. Now you've got what you've always wanted.
- Jenny Burton."
Through the peephole, her old partner stands stoically, his fist connecting with the green door of her serviced apartment several times. She's not surprised that he's at her door-step, knowing that he must have spotted her in the surveillance footage at Casa Bartowski.
She greets him with a warm hug, happy to see the NSA agent who was admittedly, one of the few agents to gain her trust and respect. Casey shuffles into the room, taking a seat at the chairs at the side of the room. She hands him a mug of steaming coffee wordlessly.
"What're you doing here, Walker?" He breaks the silence, placing the mug gently onto the table that rested beside him.
"What, I'm not allowed to visit my old team?" She retorts, a tinge of teasing weaved into her tone. He chuckles, letting himself fall back into the feel of their old partnership.
"No, you can't. You're going to get Bartowski's panties in a bunch, and I'm the one who has to deal with the nerd!"
She laughs – a hearty laugh. "Oh, ease up, Casey. I'll only be staying a few days."
"Till after the wedding, you mean?" Her grin falls, and the easy, light hearted banter begins to fade as she falls silent.
"The nerd's been missing you," he pauses with a grim expression. "Idiot nearly got himself killed once – he was too distracted."
Her eyes snap toward Casey's, unspoken questions in her eyes, ones that she could not verbalize – Was he hurt? What had happened? When was the mission?
Casey shakes his head, and she lets it go. Classified.
"He seems to have gotten over me pretty fast."
"He doesn't love her. Not as much as he tripped himself over you, at least. Besides, the girl's an absolute bitch." He chuckles, shaking his head solemnly at the recollection of Melissa Grady.
"How so?"
"Stuck up, spoilt, impatient, expects-the-world-to-bow-down-to-her-and-kiss-her-feet type of bitch. She slapped Lester once, Jeff twice, but I say no one could blame her for that. It seems that only the moron can tolerate her. Even Ellie Bartowski can't stand her."
She stares into space, trapped in her own little thought bubble, where she dreams to impale Melissa with one of the knives that were strapped so conveniently against her thigh then. He takes another sip of his coffee.
"He wants you to be there, you know. The moron's been begging me to pass an invitation along to you, but I told him it was impossible." She smiles sadly, moving her hand to brush the unshed tears away.
As Casey rises to leave, he slips a card into her hands while he walks through the doorway. He offers a smile as he walks away.
"I'll see you around, Walker."
She smiles as she sees him take his place at the altar. He's nervous – unsure, even – as he shuffles half-heartedly in his spot. Pulling at her casual sundress, she keeps her head low, hiding herself from him, just in case he scans the crowd. Sharing a wink with Casey, who spots her even before she takes a seat at the last row of the church, she calms herself with deep breaths. She keeps her mask in place; stoic and straight-faced, only stopping to smile once in a while, when she dares to take look at him.
Her breath catches, along with everyone else's, when the bride finally emerges through the grand mahogany church doors. Her gasp is of the burning sensation that seizes her heart; of the subsequent choke that escapes her lips, scratchy through her dry throat.
Melissa Grady strides up to her fiancé, her face, joyful and made up beautifully – even Sarah couldn't deny that. But Sarah gasps yet again as she spots the familiar book in Chuck's hands. The comic that currently holds his attention instead of his bride.
As Melissa reaches the podium to join her husband-to-be, Sarah drops lower into her seat, unprepared to face the ceremony. Catching Casey's eye yet again, she nods in encouragement as she slips out of the church, not caring if Chuck finally spots her. Climbing into her Porsche, she races back to the apartment in a contest to see which fell faster – her tears or her life.
Slamming the door behind her, she collapses into the comfort of her bed, the tears finally cascading unceremoniously down her mascara-run cheeks. Sarah Walker cries out for the loss of her mother, the father who was never really there for her, and now the only man who's ever loved her, inside and out. She stares at the ceiling with a mechancholy expression, wishing for it to come crashing down on her.
"Sarah?" A faint voice calls from the opposite side of her door. A familiar voice – soft, warm and filled with anxiety.
Chuck's voice.
She scrambles towards the door, turning the knob and jerking it open in a single, swift action. He stands outside her door, still clad in the handsome tux that was his wedding attire. Clutching the very same comic book in his hand, he looks at it with a smirk. Then, his coffee eyes catch hers, burning into the depths of cobalt that filled her sockets.
Handing her the book, he smiles warmly at her. "You do know that Archie marries Betty too, right?"
She cracks a smile and he swears that it's the most radiant smile he's ever seen in his life.
"I didn't know Archie was such a man-whore."
"Oh, come on, how could you ever expect him to choose between two beautiful women?" She impales him with a sharp glare, and he smiles sheepishly, moving closer toward her. He wraps an arm around her waist, pressing his forehead against hers. He places a soft kiss against her lips, relishing the taste of her after months of absence.
"Good thing I'm not Archie Andrews, huh?"
