Chapter 7: Chapter 7

Author's note:

Just for the record. I write stories every time I feel lonely about something. May it be the cliffhanger ending of Chuck or Remember Sunday – which is a great movie by the way. Just watched it yesterday, downloaded it somewhere so thus comes chapter 7. To be honest I really like to write monstrous chapters like BillatWork. Frea and Uplink2 with more than 7k words per chapter but I really can't muster such diligence in writing and be patient enough to come up with such number before I post it. So this is a super short update. Short but frequent ones I hope.

What usually happens is when I come up with a decent scenario, give or take 2-3 scenes I will email phnxgrl and she will email it back to me and post the chapter.

Also just to answer some questions as to when will Sarah know about the real owner and story of the sweater sorry to disappoint it will be a couple of chapters from now. So no, not yet.

Fastest update I could come up with. Hoping to hear from you.

And I definitely don't own Chuck.

Chapter 7

September 29, 2015
1:16 pm
Westside Medical Hospital
Los Angeles, California

"So your saying that this Moron right here sent that twerp an email and you suspect it to be the intersect?" Casey asked.

He was munching some bagels. He had asked an agent to purchase them for him from the hospital pantry. He hadn't eaten anything solid for the past six hours and his body clock was still in Washington time. His body was screaming from exhaustion.

He listened to the phone as Walker gave him a sit rep.

"Don't worry I will never let my eye be away from Larkin, But he's mine when he wakes up." Casey assured Sarah who was concerned.

Casey has to give it to the kid. He had pretty well handling things even with the mix up. Then there was the possibility of harm from the toxic email.

"I'll just camp around here somewhere. We have 4 guards outside posing as LAPD and 2 actual LAPD handling the situation. The cleaners got it. He is in ICU complete with surveillance. Got it covered here." Casey reported.

He chuckled as Chuck talked to him for a couple of minutes then he promised him a decent dinner after they got some sleep. He also asked if he needed any pillows or if he ever felt creepy while sleeping in the same room with Larkin. The kid has a good heart. Casey thought.

"Keep it in your pants Bartowski. I'm good, yeah sure." Casey said to the moron.

Then he hung up.

Casey was reviewing the most recent events while he ate. He knew he was going to have a bad day from the moment Beckman called him then asked him to report to the DNI building. Once he saw Walker there that confirmed it. They had to chase Larkin 3000 miles from Washington. It proved that this mission wasn't as simple as it sounded. It wasn't just plain treason either. He just prayed that whatever the topic of this email wouldn't be too incriminating to put Frost's kid in trouble then place a bull's eye on his back.

He can never tell if the government will ask him to shoot the bull's eye, someday.

September 29, 2015
6:29 pm
Bartowski Bachelor Pad
Malibu, Los Angeles

The room was dark. Chuck could feel the oppressive dark closing in on him. Then there was the grunting and moans he could hear from outside his room. Chuck thought to himself of course it can't be good. Chuck heard gunshots. He counted as they fired. He covered his ears to muffle the sound. Guns were never high on his list of appreciations. Guns can kill people. They can hurt him and are really loud.

A person came busting through the door which lead him to panic. Little Chuck knew he looked like a deer caught in the headlights. The person is a big guy holding a flashlight which the beam was pointed directly at him.

Man he hated the light. No matter how dark and ridiculous he sounded. He knew this routine – far too long. Chuck thought about his fears.

The said man grabbed his shirt collar which prompted him to stand up. He hadn't waited for to gain his balance then half dragged him across the main area or living room he can't remember. He didn't care. Why was he in this place again? He was suppose to be over this right? This type of things are the ones that always kept him sleepless and different. He was feeling uncomfortable, left out, dying - definitely dying.

Dying little by little, not good.

Then he saw his Father sitting tied to a wooden chair. Wounded, beaten, even wet he was drenched with a cold pail of water with a mixture of sweat from the light he suspects. The torturers asked him again and again 'where his invention was?' Chuck had to stand and watch this happen.

He wanted to say Dad. He wanted for anything to address his Father. He wanted to ask him how he was doing or if there is anything he can do to help. Chuck was always mute. No sound could ever be heard.

Out of nowhere one of the torturers an evil scum decided to punch his father in his jaw. His father's head bobbed the same direction where the punch was headed. As expected a sucker punch brought trickle of blood from his Father's mouth. It was nasty really bad if you asked him. The Older Chuck using his medical skills assessed the damage. His father might need a couple of stitches and some ointments to have his gums heal easily.

Then he heard one of the torturers ask his father about 'patient X". Then Older Chuck remembered the line 'this little guy over here' The man pointed the '45 caliber at him while talking to his father. Little Chuck tried to get his Father's attention by stifling a moan and squirming from his position. Older Chuck soon found out why all this time Little Chuck can't talk he was actually gagged. Luckily his arms were not tied like his Father. He got his Dad's attention looking at him sadly almost with a resignation on his face with tears were threatening to fall from his eyes or his Father. Older Chuck couldn't remember.

Another guy pointed a gun to his head. The gun felt cold again his skin. Another poked an end of a cigar on his chest. The Older Chuck assumed if worst comes to worst it would scar. Little Chuck ignored the pain and heat of the flame. He wouldn't give these bastards the satisfaction of them seeing him scared. Also his dad was depending on him. He needed to be strong.

The guy holding the gun against his temple added pressure as the barrel of the gun was being pushed harder towards him. The guy across him mimicked the same stance against his father with the gun on the skull. This time he failed to hide the horror in his eyes. He is on the verge of tears after all he is just human. Another goon pressed his cigar on his chest he had to close his eyes for this one and moan for the pain. If it lasted 30 seconds or forever he can't tell. All Little Chuck knows is that it hurt more than it should. To Older Chuck it was another scar to carry. Little Chuck would be okay as long as he could get the hell out of this place with his Dad intact.

Though you can't fault Older Chuck for being so damn familiar with this scene it came to him every night.

Chuck's thoughts were broken when he heard gunshot from the gun that was pointed a second ago on his head. The monster shouted to his father that he is not kidding at any chance that he would kill the son of a bitch he is holding right now. He heard his father reason out with these evil guys to keep him out of this whole mess. Chuck felt a butt of a pistol connected to his jaw giving him a blurry vision causing him to almost passing out. He tasted blood on his mouth. It was like tasting rust and salt in his mouth. He'll take being a human ashtray by comparison any day.

Chuck's vision is getting a little hazy and blurry. He did not fully understand the exchange between his Father and with the group of tough guys that held them as captives. He just saw a silhouette of a guy pointing a gun at his Father's head. Little Chuck was trying to reach for him. Chuck being asleep started to mumble something to make it all go away. Little Chuck had a bump on his head which made stuff start spinning. Then the inevitable happened.

His father was killed in cold blood by the guy in suites - monsters he presume.

Chuck's screams often woke him. The usual situation was that Ellie's arms were often already around to comfort him. Chuck always struggled in this part to remember that he'd survived and he was safe in his bed. He shot upright on the floor with his eyes open and body on alert. His brain was a different story. It was still in the hazy space between the nightmare and being awake. Someone was shaking him then called out his name. His hands curl around her wrists, squeezing and grasping it just to get himself out of where he is right now.

He let go of Sarah's wrists immediately when he realized what he had done. He sat there blinking with his heart rate going crazy. He was shaking a little. He somehow heard her saying 'it's just a dream and it's not real.'

Chuck was fully awake now. He knew she's right. It's not real. This nightmare was a patchwork of his worst fears which were hidden in his imagination. It wrapped him in this quilt of horror whenever he slept. He hadn't averaged more than a couple hours a night for weeks. Otherwise, he was dead tired from work which he would usually grab at least six hours then doze off again after waking from the nightmare.

Maybe if he would just sleep for a hundred years, he'll wake up in a better story.

As his heart rate drops back to normal, he watch her rub her wrists. He could have broken them.

"I'm sorry I hurt you," he said. "I didn't mean to do that."

He really didn't know how long was he dreaming or if he was again shouting too loud or even heaven forbid crying again in his sleep. Their sleeping arrangements thankfully were not as bad as he imagined. They were on separate bed much to his comfort because having regular nightmares was a good way to scare off a lady you intend to impress. He hasn't really come up with a term for that. As confusing things that could be around him, he would prefer to give that some time then see where it would go.

He couldn't deny this fact even way back in the past. She had been his favorite hello and his hardest goodbye.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

Chuck's train of thoughts was broken by that question which he was tad glad about it. One minute more of silence would have led him to confessing everything to her. That of course would probably scare her away.

"I'm fine." He lied while not looking in her eye then holding his wrist unconsciously.

"Right…Has anyone ever told you that you are a terrible liar? Horrid and the worst I've ever seen." Sarah said looking at him.

"It's just…" he hesitated while embarrassed.

He watched her as she sat there waiting for his answer with that look that he could not decipher. The late morning sun was shining through the window or was it just the light inside the room? He didn't care but it's making her already perfect face look even more angelic. He totally forgot what he was talking about. Just one look from her and he broke off mid sentence.

Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She was wearing shorts with a T-shirt plus no makeup. She couldn't have been any more perfect.

Chuck's heart broke again while watching her. He closed his eyes then listened to her breathing. The room was so quiet that she could be heard. He found comfort in it.

He could still feel her gaze on him. He folded like a paper. He thought that paper folded easily or maybe a bad hand in Poker. You obviously have to fold in that situation. He looked at her again running out of metaphors and similes in his arsenal. He just decided to tell the truth.

"I just hate these days that remind me of everything I want to forget." He said cryptically.

The sound of his voice bothered him. All the vulnerability, pain and fear could be heard in it. Though being a spy gave her a good excuse on keeping her emotions detached. It made her seem less than human. Sarah showing little emotions regularly showed sympathy to him. He had looked upset but the dim lights in the room still lit up his eyes. She couldn't say she was not a little bit distracted by seeing that. So she did the best she could do. She used the only way she knew to make him a feel even a little better.

"You get to a point in your life when you realize you have more yesterdays than tomorrows." She replied just as cryptically as him.

He just gave her a smile albeit a sad and dejected one. She'll just have to take what she can get.

"What time is it?" He asked trying to change the subject then gain back his equilibrium.

"Half past six" she answered.

She was still looking at him while touching his arm with concerned expression that is making him melt right now. Now he thought about it. Yep, definitely melting and nope still not gay.

Though, he could feel a massive headache threatening to cut his skull into a million pieces.

"Let me just grab a shower then I can cook something or we can order take out if you can't stomach any of my cooking anymore, then we'll meet Casey. I have to check on Bryce's chart since we need him alive to get some answers." Chuck said.

Also, there is just a sort of thing I thought about. Would you mind dropping it on email, pm or review any quote or line maybe lines from a favorite movie, book or whatever. I kind-a wanted to put it in the next succeeding chapters. I would like to make this story even cheesier if you may.

Let me know what you think.