A/N: Happy New Year!

-0-

The Two-Sided Coin

John Casey. Sarah Walker. Cover identities. Chuck's eyes flowed back and forth between the two, seeing nothing but the back of their heads the entire ride down. They were in the elevator. He was standing behind them, for his protection they'd said. That was fine with him. He was still in his hospital gown … it could get embarrassing. He may not have known who he was but something told him modesty was big with him.

"Come on, moron, what are you waiting for?" Casey had said in the room, shifting his gaze back to Chuck. "Let's move!"

"Hold on, I have to put my clothes on." Chuck quickly refocused his attention to the two strangers in his room.

"No time, Bartowski," Casey argued. "Move! Move! Move!" He'd demanded as he snapped his fingers.

"It'll take two seconds."

"Do I have to carry you out of here?" Growled the bear of a man.

"No, I'm going, I'm going." His eyes darted to the blonde for a split second, most recently going by SarahWalker her file said. He didn't think the Major much cared about his modesty. In fact, even though he had just met him, for the second time it seemed, Chuck was pretty sure Casey got some sort of twisted pleasure from seeing him in humiliating situations. Maybe, just maybe, it was because of the smirk he had on his dumb face the entire time he was bossing Chuck around. Or maybe Chuck was just imagining things …

"Walker, eyes front," he'd said with a grin as they walked toward the elevator. "I'll never understand what you see in Bartowski's pale, bony behind." Probably not.

There was an almost imperceptible flinch from her. It seemed he wasn't the only one Casey liked to pick on.

So, here they were, in a confined space. A tiny little metal box slowly descending into the bowels of the hospital. And Chuck had nowhere to go to get away from these two. Again Chuck tried his hardest to remember anything about who he was, what he did, anything at all. Nothing came. There was a wall of darkness where his memories should have been and try as he might he couldn't break through. Every single time it was the same. His search would slam straight into the black; it was like an itch he could not scratch. He felt it right at the top of his brain: a physical manifestation of the mental breakdown. Chuck was trapped in the now. He knew he would not be able to fool them for long and they would not be happy when they did figure it out. This Intersect thing sounded like serious business. How the hell did I get involved in this? Chuck watched the numbers above him count down ever so slow.

"Chuck? Are you listening?"

His eyes darted furiously toward the blonde. Walker, he remembered. "Huh? Oh, yeah, yeah, sorry." Crap. He wasn't listening. He had been lost in his thoughts.

"Moron," Casey muttered as he rolled his eyes. "Distracted by the pretty lights?" Chuck wanted to punch the sneer right off his face. Am I a violent man? Am I just like them? Not knowing was frustrating.

"I asked if you were okay. Any pain?" She genuinely seemed concerned. He would've bought it if the Intersect hadn't shown him who she really was.

"Aside from in every single bone in my body? You know, from the whole getting blown up thing? No, I'm good." That sounded mean. He didn't think he was mean. Chuck regretted his tone immediately. He was going to apologize until he remembered she could kill him, so he let it go. The elevator came to a stop. There was a ding and doors slid open.

-0-

They moved quickly through the parking garage. Chuck didn't even try to hold his gown closed anymore, wincing as he walked faster than he wanted to, to keep up with his escorts: his body had just reminded him he'd recently been through an explosion and he was not ready for this much activity, as if he needed help remembering that piece of the puzzle. He concentrated on keeping up. They were heading toward a black sedan parked in an empty corner.

Casey and Walker moved for the front seats. "Back seat, moron."

Chuck shook his head as he got into the car. This Casey was really annoying. At least he could lay down in the back seat. The only thing missing was a serious pain killer. He let out a big sigh as his body hit the seat. It wasn't big enough to fit his entire body but it was better than standing and walking. It would have to do. Plus, he could finally change into his clothes. Tattered and charred as they were, they were still better than a hospital gown.

"Okay, Chuck, just sit tight back here. You're safe now. We'll be able to get you some proper treatment soon," the blonde said.

Chuck nodded. It seemed to him like he didn't have much of a choice in the matter. He was going whether he wanted to or not. He still hadn't figured a way out. He thought about swinging the door open and jumping out of the car as soon as they were in public but that made his entire body tremble in anticipation of the pain that was sure to accompany such a move. The goosebumps on his arms were enough to change his mind. So, he was stuck.

"Yeah, Chuck, just sit tight and relax," Casey said looking through the front mirror. "I promise it will be a smooth ride."

"Casey…" she warned.

"What?" He turned to his partner. "Calm down, Walker. The kid took his lumps and he's still going. He's tougher than you give him credit for. He's sure as hell tougher than I gave him credit for." He quickly looked back up through the mirror, "That's not an opening for your lady feelings, Bartowski." Just as quickly, he turned his attention back to his partner. "Stop babying him… he deserves better than that."

"I–"

"He's earned it," Casey interrupted before she could continue. "He's not your asset anymore. He's not just your pseudo-boyfriend. He's an agent. He knows what he signed up for, just like you do."

Chuck sat in silence, watching the interchange happening at the front of the car. Huh… maybe I was wrong about C–

"An idiot agent who let himself get blown up, but still, an agent…"

Yup… there's the Casey I know… sort of…

-0-

Chuck burst through the rooftop door. There was nothing. He looked around at the bright blue sky. There were no clouds, a day as clear as could be. At any other point, Chuck could see himself really enjoying the view. This day, it just made it obvious that there was no helicopter coming to spirit him away and that scared him.

"Sorry, Chuck," Bryce offered as he walked through the rooftop door. "No one's coming. It's just you and me now."

Chuck looked behind Bryce at the open door. "Cas—"

"Casey's busy at the moment. So's Sarah. Honestly, I can't believe they used this extraction point for the Intersect." Bryce stepped forward closing the door behind him. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining; but still, I'd hoped they were better than rookie mistakes. Oh, well." Larkin shrugged slightly.

-0-

Welcome to Culver City, the sign had read. They had told Chuck they were going to meet up with someone called Longshore on the roof of a building. He would be taking them to their final destination.

Longshore … of course they have code names. 'Cause why wouldn't they? And a helicopter? How am I supposed to jump out of that?

Casey didn't bother parking properly when they pulled up to the building. They weren't coming back, and it was a rental.

"Come on, Bartowski. Pick up the– rgh…" The shots rang out as soon as they exited the car. Casey was hit in the shoulder.

"Chuck! Run!" Before he could protest, Walker grabbed Chuck by the shoulder and half dragged, half shoved him into the building. Casey was right behind them, shooting back at the men that had suddenly appeared from all directions. Fulcrum had found them.

"Chuck, you have to go," she said as she shoved him into the elevator. "Get to the rooftop. Get to Longshore. We're right behind you."

"But–"

"Go, Bartowski! They can't get the Intersect."

Chuck wanted to stay and fight. One look at the gun in Casey's hand and he knew everything he needed to know about how to use it. He was sure he could. Probably better than Casey could. But he also felt the pain overtaking his body from all the running. He would only get himself killed, and probably both of them right along with him. It was best that he did as he was told.

"Ah!" There was suddenly a needle sticking out of his arm.

"Adrenaline," she said. "You're going to need it."

Where did she even get that?

That was the last thing said between the three individuals before the doors closed.

The elevator didn't go up all the way to the top floor. He had to run up two flights of stairs in order to make it to the roof; well, at least something that he called running considering his condition. The adrenaline was working, but that wasn't a good thing. He could feel his body straining.

He finally made it to the top.

Chuck burst through the rooftop door.

-0-

There was no one coming. He was alone.

"Come on, Chuck. Let's not make this harder than it has to be." Bryce Larkin started to walk toward him. "Let me just finish what I started back at the house and we can all call it a day and go home," he seemed to reconsider his last statement fancifully. "Well… not you, but you know, me."

"That's not going to happen."

Larkin's stance shifted. His hand disappeared behind his back. When it began to emerge again, there was a gun in it. "Okay. We'll do this your way."

The next few moments took an eternity for Chuck. Everything was happening in slow motion. He knew what the gun was. He recognized the other man's posture even though he'd never seen it before. He knew what Larkin was about to do and what was about to happen. It was the Intersect again. It was going to save his life. Finally, something good from all of this.

Chuck saw himself lunging forward reflexively and gave into whatever the thing in his head was going to do. A struggle for the gun ensued. They were evenly matched. If Chuck had been at 100%, he could have ended things quickly; as it was, he didn't know how much longer he could hang on.

Every punch and kick Larkin threw he was managing to counter. But it cost him every time, too. If he didn't get the upper hand soon, he'd be finished.

With his last burst of energy, Chuck resorted to flipping Larkin over his shoulder and wrestling the gun from him.

Bryce knew his grip on the gun would break. Chuck was too good when he used the upgraded Intersect, that's why he'd wanted to shoot him instead of fighting him hand to hand. But even in his current state he was too much. Bryce needed to give himself a chance to get away. He let go of the gun and put everything he had into one last punch to Chuck's gut. He would incapacitate him long enough to get off the roof.

"Ah!" Chuck screamed as the pain overtook him. It was unbearable. The adrenaline was gone. The gun dropped from his hand.

Bryce was wide-eyed as he hit the ground. The red liquid quickly pooled around his chest.

His punch had broken one of Chuck's already fractured ribs. It had punctured his lung, causing him to pull on the trigger of the gun in a knee-jerk reaction. He hadn't meant to … he wasn't aware he had.

"You … you shot … me," he said, looking up at Chuck. "I'm impressed."

"No, no, I didn't–"

"It's okay, Chuck," Bryce said weakly, as he laid dying. "You did me a favor … I'm free. Thank you."

"No–" Chuck fell to his hands and knees. Right beside the dying man. He started coughing. It was bloody.

"You know … we were friends once, remember?" He said in a feeble voice. "You were my brother."

Bryce slowly reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out an old worn cufflink. "I'm sorry, Chuck."

Chuck looked at it for a moment and the information started flooding in.

"I … killed you … after all." The cufflink fell from Bryce's hand. He was gone.

They were friends. Or they had been friends, he didn't know how long ago. It was true. The cufflink was part of a pair Chuck had given to Bryce for his 20th birthday. They seemed happy.

Chuck couldn't hold himself up any longer. He fell onto Bryce's chest. He felt the blood on his cheek and eye. It was warm. He couldn't catch his breath. His lungs burned. He was drowning. His vision started to tunnel into darkness. It was torture.

Chuck Bartowski. Bryce Larkin. They seemed happy …

.