Don't Look Back in Anger by asesina
a/n: set in season 1, after Chuck vs the Alma Mater. Post-episode tag. Chuck thinks about Bryce and his past. Spoilers.
disclaimer: I don't own Chuck.
Enjoy!
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"He did that for me?" Chuck murmured aloud.
He slid to the edge of the bed and let his shoulders slump forward as he hung his head in defeat.
"This whole time, Bryce was trying to protect me," Chuck mused bitterly as he twirled the photo of Bryce and his other classmates between his forefinger and thumb.
"Man, I'm sorry," Chuck began, addressing the silence in a voice that quavered slightly with a million conflicting emotions.
"You see where I was coming from, though, right? I mean, I was kicked out of Stanford. I had no idea what you were really doing for me," Chuck continued, willing his voice not to crack as he wiped at a nonexistent tear.
Chuck shook his head in annoyance. No one was here. Who was he trying to impress, anyway? Right now, he didn't care if Casey or even Sarah came in and saw the tears in his eyes.
Okay, maybe he wasn't ready to cry in front of Sarah yet.
Chuck swallowed hard and cleared his throat.
"I just wish you would've told me, Bryce. I know that you couldn't, but it would have made this so much easier," he said in a hoarse voice, barely above a whisper.
Chuck tried to fight off the inevitable memories that came flooding back when he looked at the shining eyes and wide grins in the photo.
It reminded him of a time before all of this, when he had all the potential in the world and his whole life was still ahead of him.
Chuck chewed on his lower lip and inhaled sharply when he felt a tear begin to course down his cheek.
"Damn it," he muttered.
This was Bryce, the guy who had ruined his life. He had spent the last four years despising him, and a few grainy seconds of film had changed all that.
Chuck knew that he would never be able to see Bryce again, but even if he did, he knew that everything would be different.
There wouldn't be any hugs, pats on the back, or Tron references.
And yet, Chuck couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to see Bryce one last time.
He was suddenly aware of the shakiness of his own breathing and he was instantly transported to the present.
Chuck cursed sentimentality, nostalgia, and the myriad other cliches that made him look at the past through rose-colored glasses.
With a resigned sigh, Chuck placed the photo on his night table and swung his feet over the side of the bed. He glanced at the photo one last time and gave a quick smile.
Before he exited the room, Chuck murmured one last farewell under his breath,
"Thanks, man."
End.
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