Chuck vs. the Child

Chapter 6

Casey groaned as he awoke, aching from the residual burns, cuts, and bruises of the nights before. Getting blown up did not agree with him. His muscles ached, his skin screamed out the location of some of the deeper cuts, and his mattress was uncomfortably misshapen because he was sleeping on the side instead of in the middle. Opening his eyes, he glanced across the pillow to where little Ryan slept and couldn't help but take a moment to wonder at her presence. She had so much of her mother in her, excepting the additional talent of actually staying on her side of the bed – something her mother had never achieved. Casey smirked at the memory of that night in Rio.

The night before, he'd set Ryan on the bed and went to sleep on the couch, but when he stood up twenty minutes later, there she was lying on the floor nearby. So he'd laid her on the couch, put a blanket over her, and went to the bed. It took less than five minutes for her to come in. He'd set some strict guidelines before letting her crawl under the covers and warned her that this was not by any means going to be a regular occurrence. She'd taken it as a rejection and curled up in a nearby chair, which would've twisted his heart into a knot if he admitted to caring at all – which he didn't.

Considering Ryan's face carefully, he saw Maya – the nose, the dimples – and he wondered if maybe he should be looking for bits of himself. Even if she was small for her age, the numbers didn't quite add up. There was that undisclosed hotel room during the D.C. briefing before they parted, but still, the years didn't add up. Casey wouldn't admit that that disappointed him, because … well… it didn't. He was no father and even now he was in over his head.

Rolling out of bed, Casey went to the medicine cabinet for some painkillers. He showered quickly, shaved meticulously, and then considered his face in the mirror. Too many bruises were bad for sales and though being a sales associate at the BuyMore was just a cover, Casey took too much pride in his work to not care. He could beat out those other dumb asses if need be, but need dictated a low profile, so middle-road would have to do. He pulled out the concealer and started masking the black eye he'd gotten the night before. The stuff could take ten years off his face, but he never used it to cover more than the bruises.

Peeking back into the bedroom at the still-sleeping Ryan, he wondered if she'd wake up in pain too. The bandage on her arm looked fresh and it made sense since she'd been in Ellie's care the majority of the night. In fact – Casey leaned down to smell her hair – yep. Apple spice shampoo. She'd even had a bath. It was a weight off his mind knowing Ryan was safe with Ellie Bartowski. Now if only she were available today for babysitting.

It was just after 6:30am, meaning he had an hour and a half to get things ready before General Beckman called for the morning briefing. He opted for the truth on explaining the night before (at least to the point where the hospital had called him) because two men were injured, one mortally, and they deserved at least that. The preliminary report took twenty minutes, and he faxed it over so the General could review it before the morning briefing. Next order of business was breakfast because he hated eating after the others came. It made him feel rushed and distracted. He opted for eggs because he didn't know if Ryan's distaste for bread extended to all carbohydrates. Ryan was another complication he needed desperately to share with his superiors. They'd moved Maya's location the night before and he was pretty sure they weren't going to tell him where to find her. Only he couldn't keep hold of the child indefinitely.

Casey tensed when he heard a shuffle over the sizzle of the eggs. Ryan stood in the doorway, hair all askew, eyes vacant and sad.

"Mornin', Baby-Mine," he greeted, calling on that lullaby that Maya had been singing the night before. "I didn't hear you get up."

She crossed the room and sat tiredly at the kitchen table.

"I talked to your mom last night," he tried again. "She says she misses you."

Ryan whimpered and shuddered, fisting the fabric of the place mat. Casey switched off the stove and took a step closer to her.

"I heard you talk last night, I know you can."

Finally she looked up at him with watery eyes and mouthed the words, "Is it safe?"

"It's safe to talk. At least for awhile," Casey assured. He'd done his customary bug sweeps for the morning and while they seemed like paranoia these days, early in the mission CIA had slipped in a couple and he knew she wasn't above trying again.

Ryan looked at her hands then back at him. "Who are you really?"

"Right now, I'm your Uncle John," he answered evenly. Her chin quivered with the weight of the alias and she looked at her hands again.

"Do you know me? The real me?"

Casey came to the table, and knelt beside her chair. Being as he normally ate alone, there was only the one chair at the table. The other had been relegated to desk duty in the study. Forcing himself not to think about the location of the other chair, Casey placed a hand over hers, drawing her attention to his eyes so she could see he was speaking the truth. "I knew your mother before you were born. We were good friends. I suppose that's why she lets me take care of you."

"Mr. Chuck and Miss Ellie?"

"What about them?"

"Are they real? Really brother and sister?"

"Yep. They are for real," Casey chuckled. "Boggles the mind, doesn't it?"

Ryan's breath hitched as her tortured eyes struggled to hold back tears. "When do I get to be real again?"

Casey choked like someone was wringing out his insides and he pulled Ryan into a hug, rubbing her back soothingly as she burst into tears. He wanted to tell her to be quiet and that everything would be okay, but that didn't seem right. So he took her into his sound-proof closet and held her tight.

"It's safe to scream in here," he told her, and her anguished heart bled onto the walls as her tears fell. Casey had once told Sarah that he had no desire to settle down and have a 'normal' life. He'd chosen the greater good of serving his country, and the decision was so old now, he didn't consider the other options. He did believe in the greater good. He did. But now he could see no good greater than making this little girl feel safe and restoring peace to her life.

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Chuck snorted as his alarm clock sounded and he rolled over to silence it. He'd forgotten he was sharing a bed long enough to roll into Sarah and whack her instead. She shrugged him off tiredly and started smacking at the table looking for the snooze button. Once Chuck got over yelping, he sat up quickly and rescued the clock before she could kill it completely.

"Hi, uh, good – g'morning," he mumbled, scrambling out of bed and retreating to the bathroom. Sarah rolled over, pulled the covers to her ears, and went back to sleep.

Chuck went through his morning routine quickly, because he didn't know how much time Sarah needed and he hadn't reset the alarm to account for an extra person. He went to the kitchen and made sure the coffee was percolating, then went back to the bedroom. Sarah was still firmly under the covers.

"Sarah," Chuck whispered. Where the covers fell from her face, he could see her lip was busted and her chin bruised. And most of her arm – dear God! He'd lent her a t-shirt and shorts to sleep in and he tried not to adore her too much, but she was beautiful and in his bed and wearing his clothes and that was pretty hot, even if she was all beat up.

"Sarah," he said again, nudging her shoulder.

Her face scrunched up like she was aching or confused or both. As she shifted and wriggled, she must have noticed her loose clothes and remembered where she was. "Chuck, what …"

"We're supposed to meet Casey in forty-five minutes."

"Right," she grunted, flopping on her back so that the blanket fell around her waist. Did the bruises never end?

"Are you okay?"

"Fine," she answered. "There's a bag in the back seat of my car. Small, teal. Can you get it for me?"

"Sure," he said. "Do you want coffee?"

"I can get it. Just get the bag."

Chuck nodded again, found her keys, and went out for the bag. When he came back, she was still in bed.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Chuck checked again. "Maybe you have a concussion or something."

He pulled open her eyelids, not knowing what he was checking for, but he figured if there were something weird it would be obvious. He resisted the urge to call in Ellie, not because he wasn't concerned, but because he was sure Sarah would hurt him if he went too far. She swatted him away.

"I'm fine," Sarah insisted. "Now go out to the living room and write down everything you remember about what happened at the hospital last night."

"Why?"

"A man nearly died, Chuck. You're a witness. It's important."

Chuck decided he didn't like pre-coffee Sarah. He went out, poured her a cup, added a drop of vanilla, and two spoons of sugar, because he'd watched her once in the kitchen and that's what she always did for herself. When he went back to the bedroom, the door was still tipped open as he left it and Sarah was still in bed.

"Coffee," he asked gently, coming up beside her and wafting the mug by her nose. A small smile spilled across her lips and she looked at him with sad eyes that told him he wasn't allowed to know her so well. He left the cup on the nightstand and ducked out before the moment could be spoiled with words, then as per her instructions, he started writing everything down about the night before. Fifteen minutes later, Sarah emerged from the room, completely transformed into her sweet, perky self, and all Chuck could do was wonder why Ellie took four times as long to achieve that transformation.

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Sarah's head ached to the point where she was seeing sparkles, but at least she could hear out of both ears. When Chuck had set the coffee next to her, her heart welled with wistful longing. She was so accustomed to people shoving coffee in her hand to keep her going strong and sharp after too many long hours. People wanting her to do her job when the only manner of achieving it was caffeine and miracles. With Chuck, the gesture spoke a thousand endearments that could not be put into words. The specially prepared drink in her hands was an offering: Chuck asked nothing of her but rather he acknowledged her suffering and gave what little help he could. Like the pizza with no olives. Sarah had never had such an emotional response to coffee.

Unfortunately there was neither time nor opportunity to explore the possibilities. Chuck was her charge, not her friend. With Casey more distracted and divided than usual, it was her job to keep the house of cards from collapsing. Casey had tucked the girl away for the morning briefing, and he looked beaten and weary as though he'd already received a fair berating before they'd arrived. Director Graham looked more irate than Sarah had ever seen him before, and she expected to receive a few reprimands herself.

"There were two that we interacted with," she reviewed. "The younger was Fedir and the elder did not reveal himself until things got hairy. We never caught his name –"

"Hnilo," Chuck interrupted, making her do a double take.

Casey scoffed. "That was not Anton Hnilo."

Chuck looked sideways at Casey like he didn't even realize he'd spoken. "No, I mean…" Chuck mumbled, searching for words. "Every time you see Hnilo, this man is not more than three or four people away."

"You're suggesting they share ranks," General Beckman interjected.

"Given his tactics last night, it wouldn't surprise me if he's moved up recently," Casey commented, wincing almost imperceptibly.

"We'll compare the sketch you sent to our intel on Hnilo," Beckman acknowledged.

"You sent a sketch?" Chuck asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise. Casey grunted and ignored him in his usual manner. "I didn't know you could draw."

"The Unsub was the primary aggressor in this case," Sarah interrupted before Chuck could ramble too far. "He told us very certainly that this was not our war."

"Does that mean anything to you?" Director Graham asked.

"Hnilo and Raynet are fighting for dominance," Chuck stated matter-of-factly, in his Intersect voice. "Hnilo's power weakened after the NSA Faldio mission and he's trying to reassert dominance by tracking and killing all involved. Raynet conspired with an undercover NSA agent to take power and failed."

"Raynet doesn't sound familiar," Casey mused, squinting his eyes like he was looking into his brain.

"Could he be the Unsub?" Sarah asked. She didn't know about Hnilo or Raynet, but given the Faldio mission was NSA, she didn't expect to.

"No Raynet is bald," Chuck stated matter-of-factly. Everyone stopped and looked at him and he looked back, surprised to be put on the spot. "Not shaved," Chuck clarified, drawing circles around his own head to indicate. "Actually… you know."

"Why didn't you mention this before, Mr. Bartowski?" Beckman pressed and Chuck stammered some. She chose to move on rather than wait. "We will find fresh information on Hnilo and Raynet for your review. Perhaps there are more tidbits to be gleaned from the Intersect."

Chuck sighed and Sarah smiled sympathetically.

"Major Casey, I understand you spoke to the witness," Director Graham said and Beckman bristled. "Did she say anything of relevance?"

"Mostly incoherent ramblings, sir," Casey lied. "She was certainly concerned that she was the target."

"Did she see anyone entering the safe house?" Graham persisted.

"Only through the front door."

The Director pressed Casey for more details, which he gave evasively, occasionally seeking approval from General Beckman to speak. It was odd. After several more minutes of chatter, Sarah pointed out that she and Chuck needed to be at work very soon, so they were dismissed, but Sarah did overhear Beckman asking for some private words with Casey. Had he not been chastised yet? She wondered briefly if he'd talk honestly with her about the whole situation seeing as he'd drawn her in pretty deep to the lies already. But she knew also that she already knew more of the truth than he wanted to share, and she wouldn't be dropping information if their situations were reversed, so all that was left to do was protect the Intersect.

-----

Casey stood stiffly, facing off to General Beckman without making eye contact. He could handle torture, politics, and targeted killings, but he'd always been convinced in his cause and somehow it helped knowing that others were willing to put their life on the line for the same greater good. Protecting Maya and Ryan, while it seemed the greatest good he could do, felt like a selfish venture by comparison, and he had no idea how to defend it. He hated making excuses anyway, so he didn't try.

"Major, how many times must I remove you from this case?"

"Just once more, General."

"You should have called in when the hospital called you. Now you've put yourself and the Intersect in jeopardy."

Casey stayed silent, letting her rant.

"Is there a reason you brought Mr. Bartowski along on this little adventure?"

"He insisted on coming," Casey answered automatically.

"And you saw no need to disagree," she criticized. "Major, of the two of you, you should be in command of this operation."

"I am aware."

"I am having serious doubts that you can complete this mission."

Casey flinched at the rebuke. He knew his job and there were very few agents who would be prepared to serve his country the way he did.

"The Sandomierz, and possibly Hnilo, have a grudge against you now. It is important that we protect your identity, given what Mr. Bartowski said, and I am not convinced we can achieve that while you are protecting the Intersect."

"General, if I may speak," Casey said evenly, waiting for a nod before continuing. "This mission is nearly complete. Introducing a new handler at this stage may cause significant disruption in Bartowski's rhythm, especially if accompanied by my disappearance."

"Lieutenant Coleson will be covering the shopping plaza. His orders are to step in and protect the Intersect if need be. Do not hesitate to call him in. Until we understand the shift in power that occurred in the Sandomierz and the extent of last night's damage, it is important to protect your identity."

"Yes, ma'am." Casey swallowed hard. It was starting. This was why he'd never disobeyed orders before. Having others assigned to your op without your request – it was disgraceful.

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