WARNING: This story does NOT have a happy ending. Please do not bother reading if you don't like bad endings.
A/N: Hey guys, back for yet another one shot. Intersect Project chapter 14 is well underway, I've got quite a large amount written already, and it's promising to be the biggest chapter yet. I'll be able to blow through the entire France arc in one chapter. YAY!
So, inspiration for this one shot came from the ridiculous plothole that is the Norseman device, along with reading some angsty stories. Here's my addition. Also, if you want to listen to the musical inspiration for this fic, it's Fall from Grace by Times of Grace. It's metal, but it's an amazing song (and that particular song is more relaxed than the other songs of them.) If you don't like metal at all, I suggest you get the lyrics and see why I think it fits :P
Disclaimer: Don't own anything.
The White Picket Fence
Morgan's voice was quivering. "Do you, Charles Bartowski, take this woman, to be your… lawfully wedded wife?" He was close to breaking out in tears.
Chuck looked at him with a smile gracing his face. He then looked back at Sarah, trying to convey all the love that he felt for her. "I do."
Morgan took a deep breath, before looking at Sarah. "And do you take this man…"
"I do," Sarah interrupted.
"Okay… Well, by the power invested in me, by the Intergalactic Federation of Planets…" Morgan started, as Sarah chuckled. "I now pronounce you, man and wife."
Ellie smiled, she couldn't believe how far her goofy little brother had come in just four short years. They went to hell and back, both Chuck and Sarah. Sarah rushing through Thailand and Chuck through Russia, both trying to save their significant other. Her brother, a spy. She was still terrified about him being one, but the fact was that his team was amazing. Sarah and Casey were the best of the best and she'd have no one else protecting her brother, than them.
As Casey looked at his two former partners, he couldn't help but feel emotional. Him, the gruff G.I. Joe, bad-ass NSA Colonel, reduced to sniffles by watching his partners, and if he was truly honest, good friends pledge their undying love to each other. It gave him hope for a future for himself. While the bridge with Kathleen may have been burned for ever, watching the fairytale relationship between a cold-hearted spy from the C.I.A., and a computer-repair guy from Burbank develop caused him to reflect on his own life. He felt a longing that he had never felt after Honduras. Of course, he wasn't about to just run off and get married to the first woman he would find, but maybe the one would still be out there for him.
Morgan broke through all of the attendants' musings. "You may now kiss the bride."
Chuck shot up. His eyes instinctively cut to the left side of his bed. His wife wasn't there. She must've already left for soccer practice. He smiled as he thought about his children. He loved them dearly. "Oh well, time to start the day," Chuck said to himself.
He stretched out and went on his morning routine. A bowl of fruit-loops, the newspaper and a mug of coffee. Life was good. Still, he made a promise and he was going to keep himself to it. Every time it would happen, he would tell her. And he wasn't about to break one of his most sacred promises.
He got up and closed the door behind him. He smiled as he saw the white picket fence infront of his house. He truly was living the American Dream. Except it was different. He got in the car and drove away. L.A. traffic as always, was a bitch. But he wasn't in any hurry. He had been retired for a while now. The C.I.A., after clearing up the mess with Decker, gave him a nice pension that he was living off. It was enough to be able to take care of his family and always be there for his children. He was a much more successful dad than his own. It was ironic that his thoughts led to Stephen, given his destination.
He turned off the freeway onto the desolate path that led to his destination. He turned off the car and walked the rest of the way. He liked walking here. It gave him a sense of peace. That maybe he wasn't ruined by the spy-life. But who was he kidding? He was even more messed up than after Stanford. Luckily for him, no one seemed to notice. He liked to carry this particular burden on his own.
He veered off the path onto the freshly cut grass. The smell intoxicated him. He stopped on the spot he needed to be, and crouched down. He picked up the picture and his thumb padded her face. A lump in his throat made it hard to breathe but as always, a promise was a promise.
"Hey Sarah, I'm back. I dreamed about you again, last night."
A/N2: Told you it didn't have a happy ending. If you liked this story, please leave a review. If you don't leave a review, I'll just assume you liked it anyway! It's good for my self-esteem.
