Hello all!! Okay, so I wrote this on the basis that I really don't like Shaw. Sorry to all the Shaw fans out there but he just rubs me all the wrong way -.-X Anyway, hope you all enjoy it!! :D

Being a civilian sucked; John Casey hadn't been a civilian in almost fourteen years. Being a civilian with the day off sucked even more. He'd been working over time at the Buy More, trying to wrap his mind around anything that didn't have to do with the NSA, the government, or anything to do with being a spy. Oh, and Chuck; couldn't forget that little detail. Ever since he'd been released from the Intersect mission and couldn't keep a direct eye on the nerd, he'd worried himself half to death about the missions he'd been sent on. Worried? No, just concerned...Not even about Chuck, just the fact that he might screw something up and blow his cover at a crucial time when he needed it. He wasn't worried about Chuck, it was always about the mission. Yep, always. God, being a civilian meant he couldn't even lie to himself anymore. This sucked!!

His mind was doing that weird thinking too much thing again so he stood up, pacing across the living room and stalling at a bookshelf. Daytime TV was terrible and Big Mike had threatened to have him thrown out if he showed up at the Buy More again when he wasn't scheduled so he resigned himself to picking through the books he'd collected over the years and finding something decent to read.

The spine were worn and dusty, misshapen from being opened and closed so many times. Stake-outs got boring quickly and, believe it or not, there was a lot of down time when it came to missions. So Casey had started bringing a book or two with him wherever he went; you never knew when you'd need a good book handy. He didn't really need it so much anymore but oh well. He found a thread-bound copy of War and Peace and plucked it off the shelf. The firm solidity of the book in his hand, the smell of dusty pages, brought a sense of peace he hadn't felt in nearly two weeks. With a soft sigh, Casey walked back to the couch and fell onto the cushions, opening the book and immersing himself in the story he'd read hundreds of times.

He'd just gotten into the first chapter, his mind in the steady flow of the written word and the way the paragraphs were pieced together. He was able to forget for a while, lost in a story that wasn't his own, and for once it was nice to just relax-

There was a sudden pounding on the door, frantic voice outside and Casey growled as his focus was ripped away from the book. "Casey?! Casey!! Open the door!" The pounding continued and the voice of his annoying and, by the sound of it, panicked neighbor rang through the living room. "Casey!!" Morgan yelled again, pounding on the door with the palm of his hand.

Casey stood stiffly, walking over to the door and jerking it open. "What?" He demanded, irritation evident in his voice. Morgan tended to panic and usually it was about something that didn't even warrent such a reaction.

"I need your help!" Morgan gasped, his eyes wide and fearful. "It's Chuck!"

Every ounce of irritation and anger he'd felt vanished in an instant, replaced by that sick, cold feeling he always got in the pit of his stomach when the fledgling agent was involved. He wasn't sure when it started, or even how, all he knew was that Chuck had become his primary concern and his responsibility and he took that very seriously. "What happened?" He asked, voice sharp in an effort to break through the younger man's panic.

Morgan didn't bother with an answer, his simply turned on one heel and started back toward the apartment he and Chuck shared, the former NSA agent right behind him. "I don't know, you know? Chuck disappeared around noon and told me he'd be back later tonight so I didn't think anything of it, especially, you know, since he does it with all the spy stuff, and just let it go. But when I got home this afternoon he was...oh God...Casey, he looked like he got hit by a semi driven by Muhammad Ali!" Morgan rambled, shoving open the door to their apartment and barging inside.

Casey had seen some awful things in his work with the government. He'd witnessed atrocities most people couldn't even imagine, but nothing prepared him for the way his breath hitched in his throat when he saw the young man in the living room.

Chuck was unconscious, spawled on the living room floor, his legs and arms splayed in a pathetic pattern like a marionette with its strings cut. His clothes were rumpled, hair unkempt and wild on his head. There were splatters of blood on his shirt, his knuckles scraped raw over the rigid bone. A patchwork of bruises covered his face and neck, every color and shape imaginable. Hell, it would have been easier to find a place on the kid that wasn't bruised.

"I-I tried to wake him up when I found him but I remember reading that you shouldn't move an injured person and I was worried about making it worse so I came to get you and-" Morgan babbled on nervously from the doorway.

Casey ignored him, instead walking over to the unconscious young man and dropping down to one knee beside him. He felt for a pulse, relieved to find it strong and steady. The dark, ugly bruise on the side of Chuck's head, partially hidden beneath his dark hair probably accounted for the unconsciousness; Casey would have been incredibly surprised if he didn't have a concussion by the looks of it. Very carefully, bracing his neck and head with his arm, Casey turned Chuck over so he was on his back. The younger man winced slightly.

"Chuck?" Casey said quietly, leaning down a little closer. "Can you hear me?"

"Do I need to call Ellie? I know she and Devon are out of town but I can call her and see if she can tell us what to do because it might be serious and-" Morgan rambled and Casey once again ignored him.

"Come on, kid. Nap time's over. I need you to open your eyes." Despite the gruffness in his voice, Casey gently brushed his thumb over the younger man's cheekbone, avoiding another bruise.

Chuck's eyelids fluttered slightly, his face contorting slightly. One eye was nearly swollen shut, his bottom lip busted and a varying array of bruises covered the rest of his face. The kid looked like he'd taken a beating from an entire wrestling team. Wincing again, he struggled and finally managed to crack his eyes open. "C-Cas'y...?" He mumbled, his voice tight with pain.

"Yeah, kid. It's me." The former agent had to fight past the protective surge he felt in his chest and struggled to remain focused on the task at hand. Deal with the bastards who did this later. "Wanna tell me what happened?" He asked softly, propping Chuck's head against his knee to he could take in the rest of the damage.

" I 'as training..." Chuck mumbled again, blinking and opening his eyes a little bit more. "Why 'm I on the floor...?"

"You tell me sunshine. Your roommate found you like this."

"Morg'n?"

At the sound of his name, Morgan broke out of his rambled thought process and rushed over to the man on ground, kneeling next to him. "Yeah! Hey man, its me...it's Morgan..." He touched Chuck's arm gently, wincing in sympathy when he hand came in contact with a rather dark bruise. "Jesus man, you scared the crap outta me...!" Morgan breathed, his voice shaking a bit. "What happened?"

Chuck's eyes fluttered slightly, his head lolling to the side a bit. "Spy training..." He repeated, eyes squeezing shut slightly. "Ngh...head hurts..."

"Yeah, I'm not surprised." Casey said above him, his fingers brushing over the bruise on the side of his head lightly. "You've got enough bumps and bruises to qualify you for a Purple Heart." He had to fight to keep his anger in check; he knew exactly who would put Chuck through this kind of training: Shaw. The other agent had a cold ruthlessness about him, a determination and drive that made him dangerous, and Chuck, desperate to please and become a full-fledged spy, would do whatever he told him. Take on a squad of Navy Seals? Sure, all in the name of becoming a spy. He was going to have a few choice words with Agent Shaw the next time he saw him.

Turning his attention back to the young man cradled in his lap, he looked up at Morgan. "Help me move him into the bedroom." He said, lifting Chuck gently under the arms.

"But what about-" Morgan started but Casey cut him off.

"Morgan." He snapped, silencing the other man instantly. "I can handle this, alright? I've been trained in First Aid every year since I was twenty. There's no need to call Ellie or an ambulance or anything like that, understand?" He watched as Morgan nodded hesitantly. "Good, now help me pick him up."

With Morgan's help, Casey managed to lift Chuck up and off the ground, maneuvering him carefully into the bedroom. He laid Chuck on the bed, whispering soft apologies as the younger man winced and whimpered at his touch. "I'm sorry..." He whispered over and over, carefully sliding the computer tech's shirt over his head and tossing it aside. Chuck's chest and stomach were covered in bruises, black, blue, purple, and every color in between. Casey hissed between his teeth and fought back the urge to go track down Shaw and repay all the injuries ten fold.

"What do you need me to do?" Morgan asked, standing a few feet away from the bed and watching as Casey stripped Chuck down to his boxers. With each article of clothing that was removed, more bruises were revealed and he sucked in his breath. "Oh my god..."

"I need you to get some ice and Ace bandages," Casey said, taking in the damage on the kid's torso. If he didn't have at least one broken rib, he'd been impressed. Chuck shivered a bit, his glassy, unfocused eyes blinking up to the ceiling. "Shh...its okay, Chuck." Casey soothed, squeezing his shoulder gently.

Morgan disappeared out of the room, leaving the two of them alone. Casey swallowed and looked down at the battered younger man. "Chuck, did Shaw have a hand in this? Did he set you up on this "training" mission?"

Chuck blinked slowly, his face scrunching slightly as he shifted. "Yeah...he, uh...he said that a real spy had to be ready to take on a mission even when they're outnumbered..." He took a shaky breath and grit his teeth slightly. "I flashed but there was just too many of them..."

"How many?"

Chuck closed his eyes for a second, his eyes searching the backs of his eyelids. "About fifteen, I think...?"

"Fifteen?!" Casey growled incredulously. "He put you up against fifteen trained operatives?! Does Walker know about this?!"

"No..."

Casey wanted to press further but Morgan reappeared with an handful of bandages, a bag of ice and a bowl of water. He paused just long enough to look at Chuck before stepping away. "Let me know if you need anything else." He said, stepping back toward the door. He knew Casey needed room to work and him hovering over bed wasn't going to help anything.

Casey nodded slightly and grabbed a few of the bandages. He wrapped Chuck's knuckles and set to work at the rest of the injuries. Most didn't need to be wrapped, they just needed ice and rest, the bruises on his ribs were troubling though. Trying to be as gentle as possible, Casey probed the discolored skin, his fingers finding the tell-tale give of at least two broken ribs. Chuck sucked in a breath, his eyes squeezing shut tightly. "I'm sorry..." Casey whispered, one hand traveling up to brush the dark hair away from the kid's face. He moved both hands to the younger man's chest, laying his palms flat and feeling him breathe. It was a little labored and he could tell Chuck was in pain but there didn't appear to be any damage to his lungs.

"You got a couple broken ribs, Bartowski." Casey said, touching the younger man's uninjured cheek lightly.

"No way..." Chuck breathed, his face scrunched in pain. "Never had a broken bone before..."

"Yeah, well I'll make sure you get a merit badge for it." Casey muttered, lifting the younger man gently. He heard him suck in another breath between his teeth, a pained gasp following it. "I know, kid...broken ribs suck." He whispered, rubbing his hand down Chuck's back soothingly. The skin was discolored and swollen, no telling what had caused the injuries but it didn't matter; Casey was going to have a serious talk with Shaw once all of this was over. One that was more than likely going to involve some pistol-whipping if he had his way about it.

With careful, precise hands, he unwound once of the bandages and wrapped it loosely around Chuck's chest and back, binding his ribs and setting them as best he could. Chuck whimpered softly, burying his face in Casey's shoulder as he worked. "Almost done..." The former agent whispered softly, carding one hand through his hair gently.

When he finished, he gingerly lowered Chuck back onto the bed, pulling the blankets up around his hips. He sifted through the supplies Morgan had brought and was pleased to find a bottle of prescription painkillers (it paid to have a sister and brother-in-law in the medical field). Measuring out a few pills, he found a bottle of water next to the bed and handed both to Chuck. The younger man didn't ask or question his actions, he simply popped the pills in his mouth and swallowed them. "Everything hurts..." He mumbled, looking up at the ceiling and wincing slightly.

"Well, I hate to break it to you kid, but you're going to feel worse later..." Casey brushed the hair from his face again, pressing his lips to the younger man's forehead briefly. "Try to get some sleep. I'll keep an eye on you."

Chuck wanted to protest, even say he was okay (though it was a lie), but he found himself falling into the depths of sleep. Realizing he had very little control as far as his body was concerned, he let himself go and drifted into dreamless oblivion.

OOOOO

Someone was shaking him, rocking his aching body back and forth slowly to rouse him back into consciousness. "Chuck..." His name sounded like an echo, far away and muffled, and he wanted nothing more than to fall back into the darkness of sleep. "Chuck." It was a bit louder this time, closer too, and the man in question managed to crack open one eye, looking up into the familiar face of John Casey.

"Wha-?" He mumbled intelligently, blinking as the dim light of the room caused his eyes to throb.

"Every hour, Bartowski."

"Huh?"

"You have a concussion." Casey elaborated, leaning down to look the younger man over. "I have to wake you up every hour to make sure you don't politely slip into a coma."

Chuck opened his mouth to say something but all that came out was a muffled reply he wasn't even aware of.

"I need a coherent sentence before I let you go back to sleep, kid." Casey warned from the side of his bed, his shape fading in and out of Chuck's vision.

"Ngh...Casey..." Chuck whined, squeezing his eyes shut a bit tighter in an effort to block out the former agent.

"One sentence and I'll let you go back to sleep."

It was the only offer he was getting and Chuck knew it. He sighed, the very effort of breathing causing his body to ache all over again. "My name is Chuck Bartowski. I work at the Buy More. My favorite color is blue. Happy?"

"Elated." Came the sarcastic response but there was a gentle hand against the side of his face and Chuck felt himself relax again. "Go back to sleep. I'll wake you up again later." He didn't need anymore encouragement as the world faded away once more.

An hour later, the same routine was repeated: Casey would wake him up, make him say a sentence or two, and then let him fall back asleep. It was exhausting to be honest; just when he'd fall into a deep enough sleep to forget the pain he was in, Casey would wake him up. Still, he knew that despite his fatigue, Casey was keeping an eye on him all night and that the former agent was going without sleep to make sure he was alright. It made up for the constant wakings.

By 5 am, Casey was satisfied enough that Chuck wasn't going to slip into a coma that he let him sleep. The younger man was breathing slowly, the actions slightly hindered by the Ace bandages wrapped around his chest but not enough to be worrisome. He stood slowly, popping his back as he straightened. He needed coffee, or a magazine, or something; watching the kid sleep was making him tired.

Something caught the hem of his shirt and he turned to see Chuck staring at him, doe eyes still a bit unfocused but locked on him. "Please don't go." The younger man pleaded quietly, blinking owlishly at the former agent.

Casey allowed himself a faint smile, one he only reserved for Chuck. "Don't worry, I was just stretching my legs." When the younger man didn't answer, he sighed heavily, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling. "Fine..." He breathed, sitting on the edge of the bed next to Chuck. "Move over."

Despite the command, Casey helped Chuck scoot slowly across the mattress, leaning him back against the pillows once he was far enough away from the edge of the bed. Casey laid back, wrapping an arm around the younger man's shoulders and pulling him into a loose, gentle embrace. Chuck sighed contentedly against him, burying his face in the older man's shoulder and closing his eyes. Within seconds, he was asleep again.

This had become a common routine between the two of them lately. Chuck had given up on Sarah, knowing she was hung up on Shaw, and Casey was a bit tired of being alone as well. It hadn't started off as anything serious, they would end up in the same bed and fall asleep in each others arms but that was as far as their relationship had progressed. There was no need to push anything. Still, Casey couldn't help the slight discomfort he felt in his groin when the younger man was pressed so closely against him. "You know, one day I'll have to find more creative methods of keeping you awake." He whispered, thinking his words would go unnoticed by the sleeping computer tech against him.

"Yeah, well let's save it for a night when I don't feel like I have a hatchet buried in my head..." Chuck mumbled before he fell asleep completely, leaving Casey chuckling softly above him. With a sigh, tightening his hold on Chuck ever so slightly, Casey allowed himself to relax for the first time all night and fall into a deep sleep. Maybe some civilian moments weren't so bad.

Yay for Super-Awesome Casey!! :D