Chapter 2

She walks into the Buy More with a mind to do some surveillance on the mark but before she's taken five steps, she feels like she's walked into a trap. Even though she's dressed to fit in with the crowd she feels like she's being watched.

At first it's only a feeling. A familiarity she hasn't been acquainted with since waking from what feels like an awful dream. It is reassuring (at last, something!) until she begins to question why she should feel like she's been to a place she's never been before.

Is she still dreaming?

Would her heart feel so uneasy, would her hands sweat, would her head throb if she were still in a dream?

She is so lost she wonders if Quinn's made a mistake bringing her back into the field. She shouldn't have been so quick to jump at the offer of an assignment but then again, this was her only identity. She couldn't lose everything now, could she?

She searches for him in the aisles. She stands on her tiptoes though it shouldn't be necessary. How many places could a man of his height hide?

"Sarah?"

She doesn't need to turn around to know who the voice belongs to.

She hears his voice for the first time and realizes she's miscalculated her moves. He's one step ahead; her advantage is lost.

"Sarah?"

Her first instinct is not to reach for the gun concealed in her bag but for her chest. Panic overtakes her as she makes one last desperate attempt to recover what's lost. Anything at all would be better than the nothingness; the shell of person she's been left with.

Ever the professional, she forces herself to take a deep breath and turn around, even though she's nearly shaking from nerves.

"Hi, Chuck," she said. It's the first time she's said his name aloud and it tumbles off her tongue like a stone. She's convinced she couldn't have strung any other two words together more awkwardly.

The first thing she realizes is that he's even taller than she imagined; she has to tilt her head slightly to meet his eyes and that's not something she does often.

It's a mistake. He knows her more deeply than she realizes or remembers. She's used to having men stare at her but this was different. She has trouble meeting such an intense gaze.

His demeanor causes her to relax for a brief moment. Suddenly she understands how such a seemingly harmless person could have been the cause of her downfall. She catches herself just in time but that's not something she does often.

She's saved by the fact there is no boyish smirk or charming smile as she had expected. In front of her is a man who has seen too many things and lost more. She can work with that. They have something in common.

"Thank God you're alright," he said. He hugs her so suddenly and with such force that she's unable to react. She's used to being assaulted but not like this. She doesn't know how she's supposed to respond to something like this.

Briefly she considers the knife she has concealed within her jacket. Briefly she wonders whether Chuck Bartowski is a criminal mastermind because he was good. He was very good at disarming her.

What's truly more alarming is the fact she's allowing a stranger to get under her skin like this.

She considers her orders but a conscience she didn't know she was in possession of forbids her from acting further. Was she really so callus that she had to suspect every little gesture someone made?

The answer was as pathetic as it was true.

"Where have you been? Why didn't you call?" Chuck barely loosens his grip to examine her face before he's back to smothering her in a bear hug. "Sarah, I was so worried about you."

Sarah wracks her mind for an excuse. Clearly they knew each other and were close, but how close? Were they friends? Partners? Or, was it as she dreaded, something more unthinkable…

"Uh…" She surprised herself by not lying when it came to an excuse. "I wanted to call but I didn't know how to use my phone," she said. "I must have dropped it."

He lets go of her and takes a step back. There's no hiding the fact he's doing a double take. For the first time, a shade of doubt appears in his eyes.

Sarah grows very still. She is not the Sarah Walker he is used to; alas Sarah doesn't know which personality she's been playing for him. "Here," she said, producing her cell. "Maybe you can help me."

She takes the phone from her pocket and holds it out as a peace offering. He stared at it for a long time and all the while she could sense the gears in his head turning. There's a sudden coldness between them. He suspects. He probably knows.

He takes her phone finally and rapidly pushes a series of buttons. Oh. Sarah watches intently while trying not to look quite so fascinated. "How did you do that?"

"Do what?" he asks. He handed it back to her and Sarah was acutely aware of his gaze as she stared at her now activated phone. "One-double-O-seven," he said. "You forgot your passcode?"

A shot of panic ran down Sarah's back. She matched his gaze, if only so she could gauge how much he knew. If he knew about this, what else did he know about?

"Your phone's been reset," he remarked. "What happened to you? How did you get away?"

Sarah swallowed slowly. From who? She stared at him. She was sure that the Sarah of the past five years—his Sarah—would have been able to read him in a second, but she couldn't. She didn't know the first thing about him.

Was it you?

"I don't know. We were in Japan." She spoke slowly so she had time to read his reaction to her every word. "We were on a bullet train…"

He nods at each break. Quinn was telling the truth.

She rubs her temples. "I don't know. I don't remember." It's so much easier when she doesn't have to lie. She doesn't know who Bartowski is or who he is to her, but from their short exchange she already has an idea. He's someone who cares.

She hates herself but she presses forward anyway. "I-I…" she hesitates, the words become increasingly harder to choke out. She doesn't know why her body is betraying her when this could be the moment that tips the scale. "All I remember is you, Chuck. I came to find you."

The smile that explodes on his face is like a knife in the heart. Sarah Walker is officially going to hell.

"Hey…" He comforts her, oblivious to the mounting guilt piling on her shoulders. "All that matters is that you're here." His guard is down, his eyes are alight, and she thinks there is too much kindness, too much sentimentality behind his eyes for her to see clearly. She doesn't need any of that.

Especially not from the person she's been sent to kill.

She tries to find his tell; a moment when his façade of kindness flickers and the true Chuck Bartowski emerges. The one who took away the last five years of her life, committed unspeakable crimes and betrayed his country.

It bothers her that she cannot hear lies in his voice or see the deception in his warm brown eyes. It will make the end all the harder.

"Let's get you to see Ellie; we need to make sure you're okay." Chuck takes her by the arm and turns her towards the front doors.

"Unless Ellie's a brain surgeon, I don't think there's any point." It's a bad joke but Chuck doesn't laugh. He doesn't even smile.

Sarah swallows. She needs to be more careful with the things she says. "I'm sorry, I don't remember… I'm just so tired. I just—"

"No, it's okay. Everything's going to be okay." He falls for her damsel in distress plea but it only makes her feel worse.

"Please stop," she said. She needs to leave. Nothing has gone according to plan.

She took a furtive glance at the door. There were so many witnesses here. She couldn't act on her orders even if she wanted to.

Maybe she could go home and clear her thoughts.

The thought almost made her laugh.

What home?

Sarah took a deep breath. The room was starting to spin.

"Stop what?"

Stop acting like you know me, she almost said—except she knew for an irrefutable fact that he did know her.

"Sarah," he said. "Everything's going to be okay."

He spoke as if he believed it but she knew better. Things could only become much, much worse from here.

He took her by the hand and squeezed. "Hey, it's me, Chuck. Remember? I'm -"

The weight of the bag was suddenly too heavy for Sarah to hold up. "Wh-what?" she whispered.

He hesitated. It was the lapse that made the room spin harder and the breath catch in her lungs. Nothing good ever came from such a pause.

She barely heard the words, because when she looked down, she could already see proof in his hands. The words were just a sickening affirmation.

Husband.

The gravity of the last five seconds takes over all the lost time behind her. It didn't matter anymore. None of it mattered.

Because, she thought she heard him say—

"I'm your husband."