Summary-

Sarah and Casey never got to give Chuck a proper goodbye after the mayhem of downloading Intersect 2.0. They never even saw him leave. All they got was Brigadier General Beckman's word that Chuck was undergoing "the best training the world has to offer". Not a single word has been exchanged between Sarah and/or Casey to Chuck. That was, until the two agents found all the data, video, logs, and other records of Chuck's "training" on a Fulcrum database. (AU)

"Then, why don't you just run?" Agent John Casey deadpanned, frustration obvious; he'd been drilling Charles I. Bartowski for hours. And nothing but textbook responses even after Casey had given the man permission to speak freely.

"I do not know," Charles' voice was so hollow, so dead, so lifeless, just like his eyes. "Just," there was the slightest pause in hesitation, "just felt as though I should trust you."

The warm morning sun filtered through pale curtains and adrift dust in the small, cheap motel room. Charles, a tall man of wiry build, sat on one of the creaking, old chairs just barely in the scarce light of the room; Casey, on the other hand, being the large muscled container of incredible amounts of anger, immediately slammed a fist against a nearby wall in frustration.

"You try something Agent Walker," the grown man sighed through gritted teeth, pulling his fist away from the wall, a few bits of paint and plaster falling away as well. The Colonel exhaustedly deflated his frustration with a groan as he sat down at the nearby crumbling table.

The images and sounds were still so fresh in her mind. His screams and cries. Blood. The crack of a whip. Buzz of a saw. Flash of a gun. Bang of the bullet. Slice of a blade. The way the life was sucked out of him, it hurt just to watch. As though her heart was torn ou -.

Agent Sarah Walker looked up to Casey with a quick nod of her head to shake her from the daze. "Yeah," was all she could muster. The woman walked passed the fellow Agent and to her old friend.

"Chuck?" Sarah's voice was so quiet, it surprised even her as she knelt down to look up at Charles I. Bartowski. The twinkle of cheeky, corny, and witty innocence wiped clean from the brown eyes she'd come to know so well. Even the way he looked back at her was mechanical.

But, ever so slightly, he flinched uncomfortably at the sound of his old nickname. "I am the Intersect," Charles droned.

Sarah's heart sank for a moment in sadness. "Do you know who I am?" She attempted to brighten her tone with a smile, only to feel it sink further into hopelessness.

The Intersect's eyes did not even flinch as Sarah knew Chuck for when he had a "flash" of information. He really was a machine. "You are Agent 2976 of the CIA," The Intersect recited, "Known aliases -." Charles stopped short, confusion riddled across his once blank expression.

"What?" Sarah immediately asked, her heart leaped with hope.

"Even through your many names," Chuck started, voice small and tired eyes swam with emotion, "I feel the urge to call you 'Sarah'." Suddenly he groaned in pain and doubled over.

Sarah quickly wrapped her arms around his trembling body, their faces buried in each others crook of their shoulder. "Chuck!?" She cried out.

Chuck's voice was no more than a whisper of a single word, "Help."

And that word haunted Sarah like a ghost.

A/N~

Yeah... It really just started out as a plot bunny, and I'm not so sure if I should continue it. So~, please read and review to help a torn author come to a consensus! :) Please and thank you!

- I-Know-Not-Who