Disclaimer: I do not own Chuck just the woman.
AN: So yeah this is a very tender piece modeled after the ending of Assassin“s Creed: Embers.
May 24, 2054
Burbank, California
Sarah Bartowski walked to the farmer's market with her youngest and only son, thirty-six year-old old Stuart Bartowski and her grandson, Jake. She hadn't been feeling well for over a week. Stuart, being the concerned son he was, had insisted she come out of her office every once and a while. Ever since her beloved Chuck had died six months ago drowning in a lake while saving a child, the seventy-two-year old had thrown herself into running Carmichael Enterprises, a world renowned electronics company these days.
"You have to take it easy, Mom," Stuart told her, although it sounded more like pestering than anything else. "You should be working less these days. Fifteen hours is a lot for someone your age."
Stephen James Bartowski was named after his late grandfather had brown hair and brown eyes with olive skin taking slightly after his father. But he was a veritable jack-of-all-trades and was more introverted like his mother.
"Dad's right, Grandma," five-year-old Jake said, who looked like a clone of his late grandfather except with bright blue eyes, Sarah completely adored the little guy.
"You should sit down. Jake and I won't be long," Stuart said with a smile.
She reluctantly agreed and sat on a bench. Little Jake waved back at her, which brought a smile to her face. As she waited for Stuart and Jake to buy some fresh fruits and vegetables, an Asian woman much younger than Sarah sat down on her left.
"This city is crap, It doesn't have the liveliness of New York City. No wonder all of those Hollywood studios moved there." she said scathingly.
"I don't think Burbank is your problem, kid." Sarah said.
"I beg your pardon?" the woman said.
Sarah felt a pain in her chest. The woman took her hand into her own. Sarah looked back at the younger woman in confusion.
"Don't worry; it's going to be okay," The woman said soothingly and warmly.
Sarah scowled at the woman and suddenly a realization came to her. The woman nodded her head as if reading Sarah's mind.
"Rest now, Sarah," the woman said, patting her hand comfortingly. The woman got up and walked into a small crowd of people. Suddenly, she was nowhere to be seen. Sarah blinked, wondering how the woman could just vanish.
Sarah looked back at her son and grandson, who were laughing, with a loving smile. Jake looked back, his grin disappearing as he noticed something wrong with his beloved grandmother.
The sun shined above as both father and son went over to check on the matriarch who had closed her eyes forever.
Several weeks later, Stuart sat in the study of his house reading a letter from his mother that she wrote sometime ago, it was in her spy will. He had tears in his eyes.
When I was a young woman my life was unconventional. I had several identities that were not my own, fake names in one town after another. But then one day, I met your father, the most wonderful man in the world. He showed me a different path. He gave me my life and loved me like I never knew someone could be loved. We began this beautiful journey and welcomed your sister and you, my darling. Had it not been for your father, I would have just been a soulless spy, doing whatever it took to complete the next mission and not caring who was hurt as a result, I would have ended dead sooner or later if I had not met him, he saved me including from myself. I know it may trouble you, but I was a person who once welcomed death instead of fearing it.
Love and family are the things that give me strength and keep me going, my darling Stuart. For you, your sister, your wife and son, the people we love and hold dear, there are no greater gifts we can be given than these. Treasure what you've been given always in this world, everything around you that shapes your life and defines who you are every day. That is what I did, and because of that, I consider myself so blessed.
Love always,
Sarah Bartowski
Author“s Note: You can pretty much guess of not who the woman is but what she is.
