Title: Casey and The Goodbye
Rating: G
Ship: Chuck/Casey, though can be taken as pure friendship between the two
Word Count: 950
Beta: Much thanks to imkalena for looking over this fic.
Disclaimers: Not mine; all chatter taken straight from Chuck Vs the Ring.
Feedback: Please. It makes me happy.
Summery: Prompted ru-salki99 with the following lyrics:
"I wake up everyday it's a daydream
Everything in my life isn't what it seems
I wake up just to go back to sleep
I act real shallow but I'm in too deep"
Chuck is leaving.
Or . . . not really leaving, just not continuing on. He's breaking up their merry little trio. He'll miss Walker. She's made a good partner. But more than that, he'll miss this life. Not so much the Buy More crap and the weirdos it harbors, but the small taste of the simple life that this job has offered. He'll miss having a guaranteed bed most nights, meals of his own choosing and the small comforts and touches that have slowly found their way into his apartment. Most of all, he'll miss having a friend, someone who cares about him, even a little.
He's pretended that he didn't want what every other goddamned person on this earth takes for granted, but now, as Chuck is throwing it away, he's pissed. There is a sense of '"What, this life isn't good enough for you? I'm not good enough for you?'"
The job. He focuses on the job, that Chuck is rejecting this job. It might not be enough for one Charles Bartowski, but it's good enough for him. It's always been good enough for him. Everything he has done for the last twenty years has been for just that, the job.
He goes with that feeling. It's a lot safer then the ones he's become an expert in hiding.
Opening the register, he hands Chuck his one and only paycheck.
"What exactly is this?"
"Pay packet, numb nuts."
He watches as an intrigued Chuck opens the envelope. His eyes go wide in disbelief. The US government can pay well, when it wants to. He wonders for a second if it'd tempt Chuck back.
"Hi oh! Woah!"
He holds back from saying what he wants to, that if Chuck were a true patriot he'd continue on, money or not. Deep down, he knows that isn't true. Chuck has done his duty as the Intersect. Still, he can't help but make Chuck feel a little guilty for bailing out on him.
"Yeah, you know if you were a true patriot, you wouldn't even cash it."
"Casey?"
"Mmhh?"
"Thank you for saving my life at least once a week."
"Hmm," Casey hums contently. He is pleased at finally getting credit. For so long, he has been sick and tired of Walker getting all the 'Thank you's' . . . and trust. Chuck is finally acknowledging all he has given, that someone other then Walker had his back. They shake hands.
Casey is stunned as Chuck pulls him in and throws his arm around him. Damn Chuck for making things more complicated then they have to be. The hug is not too intimate, but it's far too close for Casey's taste.
"See, guys can hug."
Focusing on the anger, which is fading far too quickly, he whispers, "Not if they don't have their man parts." He'd rather be saying something else. He doesn't dare. He'll never dare. Chuck is the one turning his back on him, not the other way around.
"That's a good point."
Chuck pulls away and they shake hands again. It's safe. He's shaken hands with everyone from world leaders to the lowest criminal scum. Now he shakes hands with Chuck. He tells himself over and over there is no difference. It's manly. It's part of the job. It has nothing to do with being fond of and proud of the geek. It has nothing to do with the fact that the boy has gotten under his skin.
"You've done good work here," he admits. It's the most he can say or do at a time like this. Still, it doesn't feel like enough.
"Thank you."
Casey sighs at the words. Thank you. With those two words, he makes a choice he knows he'll live to regret.
He gazes back over his shoulder as though someone will see and understand the indiscretion he's about to commit. Going into his pocket, he pulls out his business card.
"In case of emergencies. My personal number, but ah, your fingers better be on fire when you're dialing."
He flicks his finger at Chuck's hand, making it clear- emergencies only. Still, walking away, he secretly hopes to hear from Chuck again. The boy has never been one to listen no matter how much he's been threatened. He knows Chuck will call someday. It's just a matter if waiting.
Later, when his phone does ring, he goes quickly. Chuck isn't quite out of his life, not yet. He pretends that he doesn't find pleasure in the fact, that Chuck needs him. He just dives in and saves Chuck's ass again, in quite an impressive manner, if he does say so himself. Still, it's just all part of the job and has nothing to do with something more personal. At least, that is what he tells himself.
Until later. That is when it all comes crashing down on him. It's when he finds himself putting together the wedding. As he sits there, picking out colors schemes, he tries his hardest to make everything perfect. No cutting corners, no half-assed job, perfect. He realizes that he does this for Chuck. Not for the job and not for Ellie. For Chuck. He also realizes that it's been this way a long time, with everything. Each report, each carefully spoken word to the General, each cautiously guided mission. For Chuck, not the job.
Damn.