Chapter 4 – Be Still My Beating Heart
But is that really it?
Disclaimer: Allegedly this so-called En Bee See owns Chuck. They should treat him better, then, because I love him very much.
It seemed like the beginning of a mystery noir novel. There was an unexpected sound from the door. He heard voices, one raised in surprised, the other low. He wished to hell it were Sarah, and hoped to hell that whomever was there would just go away.
Instead, the mystery novel struck again as the doorknob turned, and the door opened to reveal…
"Sarah?" Chuck rubbed blearily at his eyes, sunlight streaming in at a variety of angles they hadn't achieved through his arm. You've got to be kidding me.
Ellie walked in and threw her keys on the table, calling back, "I told you, you could've just rung the bell, Sarah!" as she headed into her bedroom.
She stood paralyzed just over the doorway, the deer in headlights. It was almost comical, and against his better judgment a snort escaped him.
The sound seemed to break the spell and her brows furrowed. "Damn it," she whispered as she looked down at the ground, shaking her head. "Damn it, damn it, damn it."
Chuck reached out, grabbed her upper arm, and dragged her inside, closing the door behind her.
"Speak," he commanded.
"Damn it, Chuck, Ellie surprised me, you weren't supposed to know I was here."
He stared at her in silence, and abruptly turned away and stalked to the kitchen. He opened a cabinet, pulled out a glass, and opened the refrigerator.
"Chuck?" she asked, puzzled.
"If that's all you have to say to me, you can see yourself out, Agent Walker." He spat the name like an epithet. He drew a deep breath, came up with a carton of orange juice and poured himself a glass. "Be more careful in the future, you wouldn't want someone with worse intentions than Ellie to surprise you." He returned the carton to the fridge, calmly closed the door, and walked back towards his own bedroom, leaving Sarah standing in shock.
***
His heart raced as he sat on his bed. His orange juice did a jitterbug in his hand, rippling and rolling as his hand intermittently shook. Ellie surprised her. She was that caught up – in me? – that Ellie surprised her. Sarah Walker, superspy, con artist extraordinaire. Surprised by my sister. He gulped down some orange juice, hoping against hope that he wouldn't hear the front door open and close. The jitterbug started again, but the sloshing was worse. He set the glass down on the nightstand, just as the door to his room opened. He bobbled it momentarily, righting it just in time.
She stood in the doorway, her mouth opening and closing soundlessly.
He stood and yet again drew her into the room, shutting yet another door behind her. He raised an eyebrow, and let it, and his shoulders, drop. "Please tell me you have something better to say to me." He sat on the bed and gestured to the entirety of his room. "Sit, stand, whatever you like."
She stood directly across from him, unconsciously falling to parade rest. She'd managed to close her mouth, still unable to find the words she knew he needed.
She took a deep breath, and he held his.
Be Still My Beating Heart – Sting
Be still my beating heart
It would be better to be cool
It's not time to be open just yet
A lesson once learned is so hard to forget
Be still my beating heart
Or I'll be taken for a fool
It's not healthy to run at this pace
The blood runs so red to my face
I've been to every single book I know
To soothe the thoughts that plague me so
I sink like a stone that's been thrown in the ocean
My logic has drowned in a sea of emotion
Stop before you start
Be still my beating heart
Restore my broken dreams
Shattered like a falling glass
I'm not ready to be broken just yet
A lesson once learned is so hard to forget
Be still my beating heart
You must learn to stand your ground
It's not healthy to run at this pace
The blood runs so red to my face
I've been to every single book I know
To soothe the thoughts that plague me so
Stop before you start
Be still my beating heart
Never to be wrong
Never to make promises that break
It's like singing in the wind
Or writing on the surface of a lake
And I wriggle like a fish caught on dry land
And I struggle to avoid any help at hand
I sink like a stone that's been thrown in the ocean
My logic has drowned in a sea of emotion
Stop before you start
Be still my beating heart
A.N.: :) Probably helps to keep continuity that the playlist I chose was the one that I called the soundtrack of my life -- so it's a mess of angsty, happy, meaningful songs. This is looking to go on for a while, but it's an easy flow. Let me know if you think I should keep going!
