A/N: Thanks for reviewing/reading the last chapter. I wanted to thank enigmamdw and Gladius Grim for beta-ing this and helping me so much with this chapter. I don't think it would be anywhere near what it is now, with out them.

Disclaimer: I do not own Chuck or Pac-man.

Chapter 2: Pac-Man Adventure

The cell was dark. Apparently the blonde agent felt the need to turn the lights off. If this was part of her 'torture technique', it wasn't working. The 'let's torture him while fixing him up technique', on the other hand, nearly had him spilling his guts to the ridiculously hot, but extremely angry blonde. A few more stitches and he wasn't sure if he'd had been able to keep silent.

Chuck could still smell the different medical materials used in his bullet wound patch up no more than twenty-five minutes ago. That smell, mixed in with the ice cold bench made it impossible for him to forget where he was and go to his happy place. Instead, his thoughts kept drifting back to how his first mission had turned out to be a complete failure so far; his throbbing shoulder being a constant reminder. He wasn't sure how his parents were going to respond to this, but he couldn't see a new mission in his near future.

The bench that he previously decided to sit on about ten minutes ago was almost as uncomfortable as the floor. At least on the floor, he felt like there was nothing else that could go wrong. On the bench, however, plenty of things could go wrong.

The bench could break.

As unlikely as that was, it could happen. Because of these possibilities, he was going back to the floor.

A pissed off Sarah Walker quickly stormed into the conference room, making her way to the wall lined with cabinets and throwing the medical kit into one of the slots.

"First, he kicks Casey's ass, and now you get nothing out of him. I think it's time I took a whack at this guy," Bryce blurted out, cracking his fingers, and getting ready for some fun.

"I just poured a bottle of rubbing alcohol in him, and he didn't say anything. I think you should wait and let him sweat a little." Sarah said to Bryce.

"You made him drink it?" Bryce responded incredulously.

"No, Bryce, I didn't make him drink it. I'm not an idiot." Sarah snapped back at Bryce, the exasperation of both her seemingly incompetent partner and her obvious failure at getting her prisoner to talk, momentarily getting to her. Seriously, the Intersect is degrading his brain...

Ever since the Director had called them back from their previous mission and placed them on this new objective, Bryce has become continuously more conceited and egocentric. Every time the government inevitably boosts his ego by giving him a new job, or putting him on a project only a few of the best agents get to be a part of, then his cockiness level reaches an all time high. This was constantly affecting her and the team as a whole. Having Bryce as the Intersect seemed to increase the work they had to do, instead of eliminating some of it as it was meant to do.

Seemingly oblivious that she said anything in the first place Bryce spoke up, "I'm going to use my persuasive skills to get him to talk. Face it Sarah, we all know you don't exactly have the best interrogation techniques."

And here was another reason thrown onto the pile, of why she was starting to hate Bryce Larkin. One day they were partners and the best damn team the CIA had. Now she was just one of the three agents Bryce thought he was better than, because he has the Intersect. All she wanted right now, was for the Intersect to have a catastrophic meltdown.

What she didn't know was that this threat was all too real.

Bryce cockily went down the hallway, mentally running through his different interrogation techniques in his head. He could break a few bones until the intruder squealed. He could act like the guys best friend so he would willingly talk. Or he could use the old Larkin charm to get him to talk. Usually that only worked on the ladies, but eh, you never know.

Walking down the long corridor, he could see that the cell was about ten feet away. Unfortunately for him, he never made it to the cell.

No interrogation method could help prepare him for the two feet coming down about inches above his head. Before he knew it, everything was black.

Sitting in the cell, Chuck found himself feeling extremely alone. This was how he had begun to feel on a regular basis lately. He had his parents, of course, but they weren't exactly great company. His dad was constantly working on his computers or improving the Intersect. Whenever he was with his mother, she either wanted to train him or talk to him about the next mission he had to sit on the sidelines of... "Stay in the van Chuck". Whenever he felt alone, it led him to think about his sister. He only saw her about two or three times a year; usually on Christmas and birthdays. Their family always spent Christmas together. It didn't matter where they were in the world; they always managed to have Christmas as a family. A family of super-spies, albeit non-governmental spies, super-computer creators, and a doctor - but still a family just the same. Chuck had been close to Ellie since they were the only unchanging companions each other had. Once she left at the age of eighteen, he found himself very alone.

"Mom, Dad. Can I talk to you guys? It's important."

"Of course, Eleanor. What is it?" Her mother responded looking up from her paperwork. Her father stopped typing on his computer long enough to swing her direction before she continued.

"I," She took a steadying breath, "I'm leaving. I can't handle this constant moving...an-and being spies! You guys say you're spies, but you don't work for the FBI or the CIA. What are you then? Does this make you criminals? If calling yourself a spy is a fancy name for being a criminal, then I want no part in...-" She paused to throw her hands in the air in a dramatic gesture, "...all of this!"

A 15-year-old Chuck with his bedroom door cracked open, overheard his sister tell his parents that she's leaving...leaving him. All alone.

He understood what his sister had meant now. From the age of six, they had moved all over the world. Never staying in one place for more than two or three years at a time. Every friend he made, he had to give up.

Before they had moved to Rome, he had made what would amount to his best friend while he was still in Kindergarten. His name was Morgan Grimes. Chuck would always have Morgan come over and they would play Donkey Kong and Mario Brothers on his Nintendo. Then one day he had to tell his best friend that he was moving far away. Back then it didn't seem like a huge deal because they didn't really understand it. Now, Chuck knows that Morgan Grimes was one friend, in a list of many, that he has had to say goodbye to.

The year that Ellie left, he stopped trying to make any friends all together. He figured it just wasn't worth it.

The constant beeping from the small monitor on the wall broke him out of his thoughts. He looked up to find what seemed like a map of the Castle crossed with a classic Pac-man maze. What caught him as strange on the map was that the cell he was in had Pac-Man in it, then yellow dots led to the exit. There was also three ghosts clumped together in what he assumed was the conference room; the fourth ghost was heading his way.

"Thank you, Dad," He whispered to himself when suddenly, the door to his cell opened and he was free and grinning. "Looks like I have to go eat some ghosts."

Sarah, Casey, and Shaw were all sitting in the conference room trying to find out who this mysterious Charles Carmichael was. Sarah sat in front of one of the numerous monitors trying to run his picture though the face recognition software. Shaw sat at another monitor running the name 'Charles Carmichael' through several government databases. Neither of them were expecting to find much tonight, but one could only hope.

Casey was sitting at the conference table cleaning his gun. There was really no need for it, but it kept him calm. And right now, after facing a pathetic defeat from their intruder, keeping his calm was all too important.

Shaw found several Charles Carmichael's in the database. One was an African American in his fifties's. Not him. Another was an albino living in Alaska- definitely not him. He found one that seemed to match their intruder's description, but then at the bottom of the file it said, 'deceased'. There goes that one. Shaw even managed to find a woman named Charles Carmichael. Not...her. He kept searching and found no matches, which was sadly, as he expected.

Sarah's search read four percent done when Casey said that he's going to go see if Bryce got anything out of Carmichael. This left her and Shaw alone with the computers.

"Don't listen to him."

"What?" Sarah asked having no idea what he was talking about.

"Bryce. Me and Casey know that your interrogation techniques are...top notch."

"Thanks. It's just-. He acts so much different now that he has the Intersect. He acts like he's-"

"God?"

She gave a small, but fake laugh, "Yes."

Shaw started to roll his chair over to her desk, but stopped immediately when they heard a crashing noise. They bolted up out of their seats, guns in hand, and ran down the hallway toward the cells.

Chuck got quickly out of his cell and heard someone coming down the hallway. He made his way to the ceiling with one foot on each wall, climbing until he reached the top. Ignoring his protesting sore shoulder, he waited until he saw the frat-boy of the group make his way, slowly, down the hallway. Chuck wished he would move a little damn faster so he didn't have to stay in this extremely uncomfortable position against the ceiling any longer.

It sure looked easy in the movies.

It's wasn't.

When the frat-boy finally reached him, he dropped his feet and fell right on top of him.

One ghost down- three to go.

Cautiously, he made his way down the hallway, wishing he had some sort of weapon other than his hands. Chuck still didn't love the idea of using a gun. His mom had tried a countless number of times to get him to use one. She trained him to shoot, and he was a good shot, but he couldn't picture himself injuring a real person with a bullet. One of these days, that would change. Eh, probably not.

Clinging to the wall, he opened his ears to hear if there was anyone around the corner. Right about the same time as he was about to move, he heard quiet, steady footsteps making their way towards him. Chuck waited at the corner until the footsteps were seconds away from him and he jolted forward sending a kick to the attacker's nose. The snapping noise indicated that the nose was, most definitely, broken.

This is when he noticed that he was fighting the brick again. This time he got a better look at him and the brick triggered a flash.

ALIAS: JOHN CASEY

ALEX COBOURN

RECRUITED INTO U.S. SPECIAL OPS TEAM BY COLONEL KELLAR

MEMBER OF U.S. AIRFORCE

RECRUITED INTO PROJECT O MELLOR BY GENERAL DIANE BECKMAN

The flash left his guard down long enough for a fist to slam into his gut. As he was stumbling backwards, he managed to position himself for a right hook to Casey's jaw. He swept the Major's legs and watched him go tumbling down. Sadly, Chuck went down with him. A cold, hard boot slammed into his bad shoulder and he howled out in pain. This paralyzed him for a second and a fist clobbered his face.

Chuck quickly scurried far enough away that he could get up to fight. He balanced himself and as Casey came over, he threw his leg into the air and landed a roundhouse right to the Major's face.

He was out cold.

Two ghosts down- two to go.

Chuck imagined Pac-Man going down the hallway eating the yellow dots and making a beeping sound after he reaches each one. The thudding footsteps of the last two ghosts...do ghosts even make thudding sounds? Ah, it doesn't matter right now as he smashed his back against the wall. Right when he saw the point of the first ghost's gun come around the corner, he grabbed the ghost's wrist and twisted until he heard a snap. Thankfully, it was a man's wrist. He would feel terrible doing that to a delicate women's wrist; even if she did pour a bottle of rubbing alcohol into his open wound. He felt a tinge of guilt for breaking the man's wrist, but when he realized that this was the man who shot him, all the guilt flew out the window.

Now that the man was stunned for a second, he kicked the gun out of the blonde's hand. He did a lot better when he wasn't going into a gunfight unarmed. Normally, in this situation, he wouldn't have the best confidence in himself, but since he had a hell of a lot of anger to aim at these two people, he figured he could win this fight with no problem.

Usually one of his best assets was becoming a rather large problem and it was pissing him off. Once he got a better look at the man, he flashed. Again, causing him to be unstable for a few seconds; giving his enemies time to attack.

SPECIAL AGENT DANIEL SHAW

WORKS FOR CIA

DECEASED WIFE: EVELYN SHAW

RECRUITED FOR PROJECT O MELLOR BY DIRECTOR LANGSTON GRAHAM

Thanks to Chuck's stunned state, the blonde was able to plant a kick directly to his gut. He went down and looked directly at her causing another flash to occur.

AGENT SARAH WALKER

WORKS FOR CIA

FATHER IS JACKSON BURTON

RECRUITED TO CIA BY DIRECTOR LANGSTON GRAHAM AT AGE 17

RECRUITED FOR PROJECT O MELLOR BY DIRECTOR LANGSTON GRAHAM

Once again, the flash left him vulnerable and in return he got a harsh kick to the ribs. Chuck made a mental note to tell his dad about the flash problem. His father was going to somehow have to find a way to make the flashes occur much faster, or have them be voluntary, rather than in the middle of a fight. The last kick triggered another flash and this time, it could be of use. A very familiar Kung Fu symbol went through his mind and he flipped onto his feet. Punches were thrown at him, but he managed to evade every one of them. He sent a kick to agent Shaw's back and then another to the back of his knees. The man went down, and Chuck knocked him out with one last kick to the head. This left him with one very angry looking Agent Walker.

Even though she was throwing punches left and right, he still didn't want to hurt her. Chuck wasn't sure if it was because she looked like a goddess sent from heaven above, or if it was because she was a girl. Either way, he continued to block her punches and kicks. After several minutes of this constant evading, he decided enough was enough. Chuck swept her legs causing her to instantly fall to the ground. After he heard the rather painful thud, he knelt down simultaneously flipping her onto her stomach, and pulling one of her arms behind her back. Making her unable to move, much to her protest, he took his free hand and squeezed the pressure point between her shoulder and neck forcing her into unconscious oblivion.

Sighing, Chuck carefully got off of her and sat against the wall for a few moments catching his breath. He knew he had gotten to be a decent fighter, with the training of his mother, but without the Intersect, that fight would have gone to agent Walker in a heartbeat.

Not wanting any of the agents to wake up when he was still there, he forced himself get up and walk towards the door. Making his way up the metal staircase, he noticed how much his whole body ached. His shoulder throbbed, his face felt swollen, and his head felt as if a jackhammer was slamming into it. Un-coding the door and pulling it open, he said to himself, "Four ghosts down, none to go."

Level up.

A/N: Hope you liked the chapter. Please review!