A/N: Sometimes you gotta bethink yourself. Ditto our heroes.
Continued thanks to readers and reviewers.
Do not own Chuck. Writing from no pecuniary motive, but rather in (ahem!) high-minded aesthetic disinterest.
CHAPTER 7 Considerations
Although Chuck and Sarah delayed it and enjoyed the delay immensely, the early afternoon found them sitting at the central table in Cave, talking with Casey about Jill. Casey had talked at length with Beckmann. He favored using magical means to wrest Jill's secrets from her - particularly the list if she really had one. But Beckmann was willing to let Chuck see what he could do, given Jill's apparent interest in him.
Chuck was not happy about the plan, but he preferred it to the magical plan. He had an idea that the use of magic to take secrets from someone was...altogether less than pleasant. He didn't want Jill in his life, but he didn't want her to face that interrogation.
"So what do I need to do?" He asked the question of both Sarah and Casey.
Sarah answered. "Take her some lunch. Sit with her. Talk to her. She wants to talk to you. Try to steer the conversation toward The One Ring. Make it clear to her that she needs a bargaining chip, something that she could trade - maybe for her freedom. See what happens. We will be watching on the monitors. If things get too weird, but you don't want her to know, use a safe word. I will come in and help you. What should the safe word be?"
"How about 'time machine'?" Chuck asked. Casey guffawed. Sarah nodded ok.
Jill was hungry. She ate the sandwich Chuck bought her quickly. She had always been a slow, fussy eater, extending their dinner dates long past the normal time. Chuck had found it mostly a likable trait, in large part because she was talkative when she ate. Chuck liked it when she talked to him and let him talk to her.
But today, she said nothing and she ate the sandwich with dispatch. As she finished, though, she pushed the plate away and wiped her hands and the corners of her mouth with the napkin he gave her.
"Look, Chuck, the situation has been reversed. Obviously, there is much more going on here than I knew - and I don't pretend to understand it. I have no idea how we got from where we were last night to here, but I do know that a power I have never imagined was responsible for it. But none of that changes what I want. I want out. I've wanted out for a long time. I think I have a way out. And I would like it, Chuck," and here the bargaining sound dropped out of her voice, "I'd like it if you would consider getting out with me. Out of this cave, away from power, away from that awful Walker and her grunting side-kick. We could have the future we talked about at Stanford."
"As I recall, Jill, I did most of that talking about that. You were silent, meaningfully silent. And that was before you went to the conference at which you got 'recruited'."
"Ok, you are right. But I never said I didn't want it, Chuck. There were just things going on with me that made any planning...difficult."
"So what was going on? I was your boyfriend, and you kept me completely ignorant of what was really going on with you. Tell me something, Jill. If you want me to go with you, you have to start trusting me now."
"My parents were Casters. They were both Seers. They found out they should not have found out about the House they belonged to and its dealings with other Houses. I still don't know what the secret was, but knowing it put them at risk. They disappeared into the mortal world and lived as mortals. But it killed them. They hated it. Mortal life seemed insipid, syrupy; everything was meaningless slow-motion. They taught me to Cast in the basement, in hiding. I hated having to hide who I was, hated having to pretend to be...less than I was. But as I grew up, I came to terms with it. I wasn't fully comfortable in the mortal world, but I came to see merits in it my parents never could. You were the main merit. I was afraid to date a Caster, for fear that I would give my parents away. I was...reluctant to date a mortal. Until you bumbled into my life in that computer engineering class." Jill smiled at the memory, her gaze fixed on Chuck.
"You were so smart, so sweet. I was normally the quickest person in the class, even at Stanford. But in that class, you passed me like I wasn't even moving. And then you started to smile at me when you thought I wasn't looking. I didn't think you'd ever work up the courage to talk to me. I thought I would have to do it. You finally did though, in a way that blended awkward and sweet completely. I was crazy about you, Chuck, and in no time. But when you started talking about a future, I had to reckon with the reality of being with a mortal for life. What would my parents think? Would they try to stop us? Did I want mortal children? Could I shelve my powers forever?"
"I get that, I guess," Chuck commented. "But how do dark Casters get into the story? Were your parents dark Casters?"
"No. But when I started using my powers outside the basement, in high school, I used them to...rebel...against my parents, against mortals, against Casters. I used my powers to influence my grades, to interest boys, to steal clothes and money. I didn't think about what I was doing, I just felt..angry, cheated. I wanted to even some score. I didn't realize what I was doing to myself until I felt a shift in the nature of my powers, and I realized that I had crossed a line. I couldn't go back, but I wasn't wholly dark. I stopped what I was doing, stopped using my powers at all. I decided to try to do what my parents had done, and live a mortal life. Put being dark behind me by putting being a Caster behind me."
"But wait a minute, Jill," Chuck complained. "I thought you were worried about a future with me because you weren't sure about choosing a mortal life. Now you say you chose one before you started at Stanford."
"No, Chuck, I am saying I decided to try to live as a mortal. I was trying to do that. You helped. Until you brought up the future - and then I had to really think about whether I could keep to that decision for a lifetime, to reckon with permanent mortality. That's why I clammed up. I just wasn't sure. On that trip to the conference, before they got to me, I became sure. I was coming home to you to make a future with you, the future you talked about. But they found me."
"Who is they, Jill?"
"A rogue group of dark Casters who now call themselves The One Ring."
"Why did they want you, Jill?"
"At the time, they weren't much. They were just beginning, organizing, recruiting. They needed new Casters with power, Casters who were not allied with any House, Casters who were dark. They came to me and told me about what I had done. Told me about my parents. And threatened to expose them if I did not join. So I joined. What choice did I have? Then they told me you had to go. A few years later I met Shaw. We eventually...took up together and he helped me advance. I stepped into the blankness in his life left when his wife, Evelyn, was murdered."
"You should have talked to me back at Stanford, Jill. Talked to somebody."
"What could you have done, Chuck? Who could I talk to? I did not know which Casters to trust. I could not involve my parents. I had nowhere to turn. I'm sorry about your expulsion, Chuck."
"Why are you sorry? That was just another horror added to the one of you dumping me."
"No, it wasn't, Chuck. I...did it. I knew I could not resist you, that I would eventually draw you into my mess because you would draw me back to you. The only way I could keep it from happening was to dump you hard. But of course, you are too good a man to respond to that with vindictiveness like pretty much anyone else would've. You were willing to forgive me even that. So I had to get rid of you altogether. I planted the tests in your room and then I called and reported you."
Chuck sat in shocked silence.
He had never imagined Jill involved in that. He just figured he had bottomed out on Fortuna's Wheel, gotten caught in one of the bad luck hurricanes that blow randomly to person's shore from time to time. But it had all been connected, all manipulated. The One Ring had done this to him. Well, Jill had. But they had created the conditions that moved her to do it all.
Jill sat and stared at her hands, idly tearing her napkin into small strips, waiting for a reaction.
"You tell me all this and you still think we could get out of this together? Forgive me, but, Jill, are you crazy?"
Jill stood and walked around the table. Chuck pushed his chair back to stand too, but before he could get up, Jill slipped into his lap. She kissed him again, with the same vigor as the kiss in the hallway the night before. Chuck pulled back quicker this time. He had seen it coming.
"What, Chuck? You know how it was for us. What it was like between us. I've been stuck with Shaw, but I have never been with him without thinking of you. No one since you has made me feel like you did, Chuck. Certainly not Shaw. He is as much a golem in the bedroom as out. You can't tell me you haven't thought about me - about us, that way, in these five years."
Just as he was about to figure out how to use 'time machine' in a sentence that made sense in this ridiculous context, he heard the door of the cell open. He could tell from the look on Jill's face that it was Sarah who had entered.
"Get your ass off my asset, Roberts." Sarah's voice was steely. But it was not the voice of Enforcer Walker.
"I think your asset is enjoying my ass, Walker," Jill said, deliberately not looking at Sarah but gazing at Chuck.
Chuck slipped one arm around Jill's back and another under her knees and he stood up with her, depositing her unceremoniously on her feet. Jill looked shocked. Chuck heard Sarah chuckle.
"Jill, I can't deny that, while we were together, I thought what we had was wonderful. All of it. And of course, it crossed my mind during the last five years." He was not eager for either woman in the cell to know how often it had before the advent of Sarah in the Buy More. "But I know now that what I thought was wonderful was an illusion. All the things that made it seem so good were half-truths or thorough lies. I wouldn't go anywhere with you, Jill."
Disappointment and anger and a dash of contempt flared in Jill's eyes. "You're a fool, Chuck. I don't know what Walker has you doing here, but you have to know she's feeding you lies hand over fist. The woman has never told a truth in her life. Do you understand who she is? She belongs to Langston Graham, Chuck. She's his appliance. She's a cold-as-death manipulator. She can't have feelings. What is she promising you? Money? It'll never happen. Sex? That might happen, but only so she can control you. It's a standing tactic of Enforcers - of course, I guess 'standing' there is misleading, but who knows? Everything she has said to you, Chuck, everything she has done for you or with you, has been under Graham's orders. Everything. I promise you."
"Enough, Jill!" Sarah shouted. Jill stopped speaking.
"How did you think you could get out of The One Ring, Jill? Tell us and we will do our best to see that the Houses go easy on you. Leave Chuck alone. Just tell us. You haven't got anything else to bargain with."
Jill glared at Sarah for a long time. Eventually, she sat down. Chuck turned finally to look at Sarah, but her gaze was still fixed on Jill, smoldering and full. She did not look at him. After a moment, she walked past him and took his seat. She motioned for Jill to sit back down in her chair. As Jill sat, Sarah turned back to Chuck.
"Leave, for now, Chuck. Let me talk to Jill."
When Chuck walked out of the cell, Casey was waiting for him. He lead Chuck to the monitors where he and Sarah had been watching Chuck and Jill talk. Casey motioned to one seat and sat down in the other.
"You know that stuff about Walker is crap don't you?"
"Yeah, Casey, I do. It's just the shock of all that Jill told me. I hardly knew how to react to her story about us. And then she starts on Sarah."
"Walker knows what she is doing. Listen."
So, Jill, you really think Chuck is going to run off with you?"
"Maybe. I hope so. But I know Chuck. He won't let me be mistreated. He will help me. My best chance at a good deal is to have him as my advocate. I don't know why he is here - I doubt it is because you needed to hire a hacker. But if he is here, he plays some role in what is happening. I want him on my side. He's been on my side before, Walker...and on top of me, and behind me..."
"Fine." Sarah's voice was a sharp knife. "But do you actually want him?"
"Yes, I do. What I told him about the last five years is true. He has always been on my mind. No one has compared to him."
"That I believe," Sarah said simply.
"You do? Why? ...Wait a minute. You and Chuck. You actually are together? You aren't just handling him, are you?"
"No. Yes, Jill, we are together."
"Well, that is surprising. Surprising: not because I can't imagine Chuck being attractive to someone. He was and is to me. I believe he would be to anyone who got to know him. But it is surprising because, given your reputation, I figured the only reason you weren't dark is that you really had no soul. I couldn't imagine you genuinely attracted to anyone, much less someone like Chuck. He's special. And, except for your power, and this brassy Jean Harlow thing you've got going with your hair, you aren't."
Sarah let that last bit go. "Yes, he is special. And I doubt you really want to get into a No Soul Sweepstakes with anyone, Jill. Because, although Chuck hasn't brought it up, don't think it has not been on his mind: you nearly murdered a man in front of us last night, Jill. How seriously are we supposed to take your I'm not all bad act? You are dark and as far as I can see you have no intention of being anything else, even if you could. And despite what you may have told yourself at Stanford or told yourself since, you never would have chosen a mortal life. You would always have been most in love with your power. You would never have loved Chuck, you would have only used him. And that is why you are dark."
Jill narrowed her eyes at Sarah but said nothing, at least for a little while. "So, Sarah, tell me true - you want a life, mortal life with Chuck? A regular job, a minivan, a house in the suburbs, rugrats? You, one of the most talented fighting Casters alive, a woman like you, that's what you want? Who do you think you are kidding? You are no more in love with Chuck than I am, not really. You are lying to yourself as surely as you say I am to myself. Are you going to have dinner at five? Are you going to walk the dog, change diapers, unload the dishwasher? Game night? You and me, Walker. We are the same. I'm just a little farther along the rail tracks we both share. You'll catch up, and you'll leave a mess of Chuck behind you on the tracks, just like I did. Poor bastard. He gets to live this nightmare twice."
Sarah kept her gaze steady, focused on Jill. Jill's questions probed spots that had been sore for Sarah. They were sore spots, though, before she met Chuck. But before Chuck, they had been abstract questions. Sarah could not really picture a mortal life even as it attracted her because her imagination could not flesh it out, make it concrete. Sarah had learned in the past few months that answers to abstract questions are often misleading since an abstract question is unclear. To make it clear enough to answer, the tendency is to flesh it out with fantasy, and thus to make it either too much wish fulfillment or too much dread fulfillment.
Sarah had believed she wanted a mortal life when she answered the questions in the abstract, but now that the mortal life she was choosing was a life with Chuck, the question was clear and the answer clear. She knew she wanted a mortal life with Chuck. She was done answering questions she did not fully understand. That was to cheat both her present and her future, and the people who mattered to them. Chuck's house and hers, his kids and hers: Yes, that was what she wanted.
"Jill, our tracks diverged somewhere in the past. I found a switch you missed, I guess. Maybe that was luck. Maybe character is fate. Anyway: I am not you. We are not the same. You don't know the thoughts in my head. You don't know what I want."
A pained look flashed across Jill's face. Sarah knew she had been attacking not only her but also Chuck. Jill was cunning. She knew Sarah likely was watching her talk to Chuck earlier. She knew Chuck likely was watching her talk to Sarah now. She had expected to be able to manipulate Sarah, either into saying something that would hurt Chuck or into fully adopting the icy persona she expected. If Sarah had done the latter, in the face of the questions Jill was asking, that would have hurt Chuck. Sarah could have tried to explain it. But it was one thing to adopt that persona as she had when they were taken, another to do it now when the tables had been turned. Last night it was a protection for Chuck; here it would look like protecting herself, hiding doubts or qualms. She did not want Chuck to doubt her.
Jill was clever, Sarah would give her that. If Chuck was going to be the help to Jill she wanted him to be, she needed Chuck to begin to fret, to doubt, to second-guess himself and to second-guess Sarah. Jill had never taken seriously the thought that someone - Sarah - could face the choice she - Jill - faced and choose differently. Like most selfish people, Jill could not really imagine other minds as 'other'. The minds of other people were either extensions of her own or the others only pretended to mindedness. Sarah's honest responses were the one thing that Jill did not know how to counter.
Sarah saw Jill's resolve crumble into a heap. "I do have a list. What will it get me?"
Jill had a list. But it was on a flash drive in a safety deposit box in a bank vault downtown. She had made sure that was the only copy. There was nothing on her computer at home, nothing on paper. Even worse, she had sealed the box after the bank manager had left her with it to store whatever she had to store, and the sealing spell required Jill's touch, not just a password. This meant, Sarah thought grumbling to herself, they would have a fourth with them on the mission tonight. Jill. Sarah smiled to herself: they could always just cut off Jill's hand and take it with them. There were spells that would re-attach it later. The pain would be intense…
Sarah shook her head. Obviously, they wouldn't do that, but Jill was making Sarah a little skoosh homicidal. Even though Jill no longer seemed to think she was likely to interest Chuck in her again, she continued to take every opportunity to do so, in any way she could think to do so. She cooed and batted her eyelashes. She licked her lips and hugged her chest. She bent over, either to display her cleavage or her bottom. She managed to be once wholly and a couple of times partially undressed on occasions when Chuck had to visit her cell. It was shameful and shameless. But Jill was enjoying it. Even if it did not re-ignite Chuck's interest, it kept him embarrassed and awkward and unsure of himself, worried about how Sarah might react to his reactions. And it was getting under Sarah's skin, way under. So for Jill it really was win-win.
Except of course that Jill had, in the most important sense, lost. She had to give up the list with only the promise that Beckmann would consider what she had done and factor it into the final decision on her future. It seemed unlikely to Sarah that Beckmann would do any less than imprisoning Jill for a long while. Jill hadn't yet connected what happened the other night with Chuck, but she might eventually do so. Luckily, Jill's general disdain for mortals crept into her judgments about Chuck-she had so far given no hint of considering that a mortal might have power.
Sarah was sitting in the sunshine outside Lou's deli, waiting for Chuck. He was going to meet her for lunch. He was supposed to bring Morgan with him. Morgan had been feeling sort of left out lately, and Chuck wanted to make up for having so little time for Morgan in the last couple of weeks. Once they had Jill's list, things would likely get even more intense, so this was maybe the last time Chuck had to see Morgan for a little while. It made Sarah feel good, warm even, that Morgan had evidently asked if she could be included in the lunch plan. She hadn't gotten to know Morgan as well as she would like, yet, but they actually got along surprisingly well. When you looked past his goofy exterior, it was clear that he had a heart of gold underneath it. It was also clear that he would do anything for Chuck, and that kind of devotion to Chuck was bound to move Sarah. It was almost like she and Morgan had an unspoken bond, a willingness to do whatever it took to protect Chuck.
She saw them leave the Buy More and start across the parking lot. Chuck beamed when he saw her and waved, almost like a kid waving at his parents picking him up from camp. He was so glad to see her. He was always so glad to see her. She reveled in that gift, one he gave her daily. He made room for her, found her a place in whatever he did. For her. He still did not yet know a lot about her, but he knew more about her now than anyone else alive. And he kept what she told him in trust, treasured it. He did not judge her or pity her. He loved her.
Morgan seemed to be in a brown study as he walked to Lou's, and not his normal slightly hyper self. He stared at the pavement, chewing on his lower lip. She wondered what was up. And then it struck her. Chuck had mentioned it the other night - but they hadn't had time while in Cave to talk about it - that Morgan had confessed being smitten with Lou. He had not let on about it when he saw that Lou's interest in Chuck and that Chuck wasn't wholly indifferent to Lou. But now that Chuck was out of the picture, and now that Lou had retired the Chuck Bartowski (because it just seemed too weird and too embarrassing for Lou to be making and serving anyone that sandwich with Sarah in the deli) Morgan was hoping to get to know Lou better.
She strongly suspected that Morgan was trying to think of a way of getting Lou's attention. Sarah was not at all sure what Lou thought of Morgan, or if she really had ever thought of him at all (other than as Chuck's friend), but she realized she could at least help give Morgan a chance. Chuck had come for a late lunch, which was why Sarah could take a break and eat with him; the rush was over. But that meant Lou could maybe take a break too. Since she and Lou had gotten closer, the awkwardness about Chuck had diminished. Lou had accepted him as a friend, and the shadow of wistfulness that Sarah sometimes saw in Lou's eyes when Chuck was around had become rarer. Sarah got up and went inside quickly. Lou was leaning against one of the tables, recovering from the frenzy of lunch.
"Hey, Lou," Sarah beckoned, "it's nice out - and Chuck and Morgan are going to join me for lunch. Why don't you too?"
Lou looked out at the sunshine and then nodded in agreement. She went behind the counter and grabbed a cup of coffee. Sarah held the door open for Lou. She and Lou sat down just as Chuck and Morgan finished their trek through the lot. Chuck leaned down and gave Sarah a quick, soft kiss on the cheek. Morgan said hello to her and then managed to squeak out the same to Lou. Lou noticed his obvious consternation and smiled.
They sat there in the sun, talking about their workdays, the lunch frenzy at Lou's and the funereal silence of the Buy More. No one seemed interested in electronics on this sunny day. Sarah could see the wheels turning in Chuck's head, turning in response to the wheels not turning successfully in Morgan's. Since his squeaky greeting, he'd mostly just interjected occasional one-word comments: 'Yes', 'No', 'Cool'. Sarah was struck as always by the honesty and depth of Chuck's empathy. He was suffering maybe more than Morgan because he both felt Morgan's suffering and then he suffered because of Morgan's suffering. Then she saw a flash in Chuck's face: he had an idea. His lips turned up ever-so-slightly at the corners, and he shared that nearly inward smile with her and her alone.
"Say, Morgan, what about that argument we had a couple of weeks ago?"
Morgan looked at Chuck blankly, shrugging, desperate.
"You know, the one about the best sandwich to take with you to a deserted island. You have strong feelings about that. My guess is Lou might have a thought or two about it as well."
Morgan visibly relaxed. He launched into his reasons against taking any sandwich with mayo on it, evidently his notion of the most natural place to start. Lou was both amused and intrigued. She spoke in defense of mayo, conceding that it would mean the sandwich couldn't be kept long, but stressing the magical flavor effects of the condiment. As the two of them settled into a comfortable conversation, Chuck smiled widely at Sarah. "Who knows," his smiled somehow said, "good things have come from less promising beginnings." She knew he was thinking of her walk to the Nerd Herd desk and her hand on his and her need of repair and his need of her. She absolutely knew the one thing she would take to a desert island. Mayo be damned.
As Sarah prepped gear for the mission to retrieve Jill's list, she started thinking about sitting in the sun with Chuck and Morgan and Lou. She had often seen people doing such things but she had not imagined herself as part of it, a part of a few lazy minutes on a warm, sunny day, full from lunch and laughing with people who loved you and knew you. Of course, if she had imagined it, she would have imagined it all wrong, as somehow angsty and fraught with unseen tensions and unknown motivations. But, setting aside poor Morgan's awkward interest in Lou, there was exactly none of that. But that did not make it boring or slow or pointless, it made it...real.
For the first few weeks with Chuck, her heart would occasionally run aground on the thought that she did not deserve happiness, did not deserve Chuck. She was not dark, but there were darknesses in her past, things she did not want to re-live much less share. She had been careful about her violence, about her use of power. Still, she had often had to resort to violence, to use her power. There was often damage done. She trusted Graham - up to a point. But she did not follow his orders blindly. There were times when she had apparently failed to do what he wanted when as a matter of fact she had succeeded in doing what she thought was right. Still, she had done things she wished undone, necessary but awful things, and seen things no one should have to see. Monstrous things.
The worst problem was the emptiness of it all, the chilling fact that she was very, very good at something that provided her no lasting satisfaction, that seemed to eat at her if she allowed herself to think about it. So, she mostly had not allowed herself to think about it, but that did not stop the job from eating at her. It did. Slowly and surely. It had left her less than a whole person. Jill's crack about Sarah having no soul was not so far from the mark.
Because of that, Sarah worried that allowing Chuck to continue to fall for her was wrong, that she was yoking him to an emotional invalid. She had tried once, haltingly, to say this to Chuck. She hadn't been able to say it quite right, but he seemed to intuit what she meant to say. What he said in reply was brief, clearly a thought he had been working on in relation to himself: "Sarah, don't ask 'Do I deserve it?' ask 'What do I do now?' No person ever deserves another person - and that's part of what makes being together so wonderful."
Chuck was about to finish his Buy More shift. He would then slip into Cave and help finish the prep for the mission. He might also get a chance to give Sarah the kiss he wanted to give her at Lou's, but Lou was there and people were walking by, so he had settled to a quick kiss in greeting. He loved kissing Sarah, the way she kissed him back. Their kisses were like an intimate conversation, speaking in tongues. Chuck began to slip into a recollection of the first time Sarah kissed him at the ranch house.
His computer chirped, drawing Chuck back from the memory of the taste of Sarah. He looked at the screen.
I know your secret, Chuck.
At first, he thought it was Morgan. But then he remembered that Morgan had finished his shift earlier. Chuck looked around the store. No one seemed to be paying attention to him at all. The words on the screen slowly dissolved and the screen went blank. Chuck was about to chalk it up to hallucination when there was another chirp.
I've sent you a package. It will arrive by messenger in a few minutes. Do not open it at work or in front of any Caster. Talk to no one about it.
Again, the words disappeared. Chuck blinked rapidly several times. "Who?..." ]
Another chirp.
Call me Orion.
A few minutes later a messenger stepped up to the desk.
"Package for...Bartowski."
Chuck gestured to his name tag.
"That's me."
He signed for the package. The messenger handed it to him and left. It was a small cardboard box. The address had been printed by computer, not by hand. There was no return address. Chuck looked around the store again. He tore the box open, trying to make as little noise as he could.
Inside the box was a book. It was quite slim and bound in leather. It looked very much like The Intersection. There was no title on the spine, but across the front, it read: A Skeleton Key to the Intersection. Another catchy title. Why not The Intersection for Dummies or Mastering the Intersection in 90 Minutes? Chuck feared to open the book. He looked around for the third time; he still seemed to be of interest to no one. It was time for his shift to end. He slipped the book into his bag and left, using the hidden door in the employee's lounge to head down to Cave. Everyone would think he had gone out the back.
Chuck seemed distracted as he came down the stairs. He looked up at Sarah and smiled, but he she could tell he had something on his mind. She knew that having Jill around was putting pressure on him, and not just because of Jill's brazen behavior. She knew that Chuck was torn about Jill, about their past, torn between frustration about the illusion, the wasted time, the regret, and his natural willingness to forgive. Chuck wanted to be unforgiving. He wanted to hold onto his frustration, maybe even to find a way to hurt her as she has hurt him. He wanted to do these things. He wouldn't. Sarah knew he would forgive Jill. He had already begun to do so, even as Jill worked so hard to embarrass and discomfit him. Sarah figured that the fact that they were almost done with Jill was further aggravating Chuck's sore feelings.
Chuck went down one passageway, to the lockers, and came back without his bag. He leaned down and gave her a repeat of his kiss at lunch. Since they hadn't had a moment alone together since this morning when he left her place, she was surprised at the kiss. Casey was not around. Jill was in her cell and could not see them. She had expected a proper kiss. She realized that he also normally stowed his bag only after he had kissed her, so that was weird too. Casey jogged down the stairs at that point and they began checking and re-checking the plan, and Sarah was able to give Chuck's odd behavior no further thought.
They decided the best plan was to teleport into the vault. Casey had gone to the bank earlier in the day to secure a safety deposit box of his own and to see what they were up against. He also left a magical beacon in the vault, greatly simplifying the task of teleporting in. Beckmann had decided to join them in the cave and to cast the spell herself. She was going to bring two other Casters to help her.
Shaw was a big worry. Jill thought he knew nothing about her list and so knew nothing about her hiding it. But Beckmann was less sure. She could imagine Shaw knowing about the list all along, and now using the list as bait and setting up an ambush. This was one reason they had delayed the mission a couple of days. If Shaw was planning to ambush them, he would expect them to come for the list immediately. Waiting stretched Shaw's patience, and, more importantly, his resources. It was unlikely he had many men left after Casey's raid. Of course, he could eventually get more, and that was the reason they were not waiting any longer. Timing was everything.
But there was another reason for worrying about Shaw, a different one, and just as important. He knew who Chuck was and he knew that Chuck had been working with Sarah. He might have believed what Chuck told him about that, but he might not have believed it. Anyway, they had been worried since Shaw escaped that Shaw would try to take Chuck, maybe as a hostage to trade for Jill. Chuck had been sleeping at Sarah's since they returned. He was never anywhere where she or Casey could not see him. So far there had been no sign of Shaw.
As she made final preparations, Sarah considered all this and noticed again that Chuck seemed distracted. Surely, the situation with Jill was not bothering him that much, was it? As Chuck slipped into his BDUs, Sarah stepped beside him. He gave her a quick smile and reached out to squeeze her hand.
"Chuck, are you ok? You seem...off? Is it all this with Jill?"
"No," Chuck said, taking stock of her concern and his own feelings. "I mean, that's been on my mind, but I am doing better with it. Jill didn't really steal over five years of my life. I did. If at Stanford, I had been clearer about who I was and what I wanted to do and to be, I would never have fallen for her. My troubles with myself began long before Jill; she used them to her advantage, but I should have been wrestling with my demons, not dodging them. I guess the success I was having in school made me feel that I was doing that, but I now know that my success was just another distraction. People have left me. Mom, Dad, Jill. All that hurt me badly but I refused to see those decisions as theirs. I thought I had done something in each case, that I deserved to be abandoned. By thinking that way, I justified what they did and condemned myself. I don't mean that I am currently standing in judgment on them. I just mean that I am no longer blaming myself. They made their choices. I did the best I could. Doesn't mean I couldn't have done better, but I did not do so poorly that I deserved to be abandoned."
Sarah had not expected all that. She rubbed Chuck's hand.
"I was really thinking more about what happens to Jill after tonight. But I am glad to hear you say all that, Chuck."
"I'm sorry for Jill. But she has to live with the consequences of her choices. I don't. I hope the Houses aren't too severe. Even knowing what she has become, I do not wish her ill. But, God, I do wish her gone."
"So, Chuck, what's really on your mind then? Something's making that giant brain of yours spin. I know you, Chuck."
"Ok." Chuck's voice dropped to a barely audible whisper. "I was going to tell you, but after the mission. Orion contacted me. He sent me a book. At least I think it was Orion."
Sarah allowed her eyes to show him that she was stunned. But she kept her expression otherwise fixed. Chuck had learned how to read her complicated blue eyes. Or he had to a certain degree. And she was working harder at allowing him to read them. She rubbed his hand once more as a promise that they would face this together once the mission had ended.
Chuck had not intended to keep the book from Sarah, or Orion's contact from her. He just didn't want to share either with Casey or Beckmann yet. They had promised each other: no secrets, no lies. That is how Chuck wanted it. Lies destroyed the self. A person is real only to the extent that he or she tells the truth and faces the truth. Chuck wanted to be real for Sarah, wanted her to be real for him. He did not know everything about her past. But he knew a lot about her present, and about her presence in his life. She had lived with the emptiness of lies for so long.
Chuck was so afraid. So afraid of losing her. She was wonderful to him in so, so many ways. She really was too good to be true. She was a Caster, and not just any Caster, she was Enforcer Sarah Walker. He was a mortal, just barely on solid food. He had read some book and it gave him power. A power he could neither understand nor control. That meant he was functionally powerless. He was a Reader. But having read The Intersection seemed only to make worse the situation he was in before he read it. In those days, he was a guy with all this potential, but he could not do anything with it. Now, he was a guy with all this power, but he could not do anything with it. Talk about performance anxiety. He was lousy with it, but metaphysically, not physically.
Maybe Orion's book would help with that. Maybe Chuck would finally launch. Maybe he would finally make good on that potential or that power. Become something in the world. He had to. She was Sarah Walker. He couldn't just be Chuck Bartowski. Not for her sake, but for his.
Sometimes in the mornings, he would roll over quietly and look at Sarah and try to note every detail of her. He would try mentally to hold on to her face, her body outlined beneath the sheet, the rise and fall of her breathing. He could never quite squelch the feeling that tomorrow morning she would be gone. It wasn't that he thought he didn't deserve her. It wasn't that he thought she was faithless, that she would leave him. Not that at all. It was…
...It was captured somehow in the contrast between Sarah and Jill, the difference in how he felt about them. He had thought Jill was the one back at Stanford. He had thought he loved her. He had thought she was beautiful. She was beautiful. But he never felt compelled to wake up to study her. He did not live in fear of losing her. He never took her for granted, but he never reacted to her as he did to Sarah. That had of course been part of the reason Jill had so effectively destroyed him. He never expected it. Never saw it coming. But the problem was not that he thought he was making a mistake in trusting Sarah. He trusted Sarah.
What was he trying to make clear to himself?
This: Sarah was a miracle. And like any miracle, gratuitous, a sudden peal of thunder, the voice of God. He believed in her, wholly. But she was a miracle. She filled his life with light. He saw everything in the light she provided. He believed in her, but in another sense of the term, Sarah was beyond belief. He could only hold still and behold her. Like in the mornings. How could anyone get used to living with a miracle? Either you didn't - or you weren't living with a miracle. She was a miracle, so he didn't, couldn't, get used to her. He could only be thankful and try to make sure he constantly acknowledged the grace that filled his life. He tried to make sure Sarah knew, even though he couldn't seem to find the words to tell her. Even with all his words. He tried to make sure that every time he looked at her the miracle of her registered in his gaze.
But registering the miracle of her made him aware that he was not a miracle. It made him want to be a better man, to put away the doubt and dithering and diffidence that had riddled him for so long. He was making progress, and having Sarah in his life was the reason. Every time she said his name she roused him, rallied him, made him feel more alive, more capable. But he couldn't seem to capitalize on that, outside of his time alone with her. When it was just the two of them, he felt like there was no gap between who he was and who he wanted to be. He felt integrated. But out in the world, in public, he sometimes still felt the gap, felt gappy, felt disintegrated.
Maybe the new book Orion sent him could help him master his power, help him bring the parts of himself together all the time, in private and in public. He just needed to finish this mission and then find time to read the new book. Sarah would help him. Like she said back on the top of the building, they would figure it out. Together.
After she rubbed his hand, Sarah noticed that Chuck was lost in thought. Just when she started to ask him what he was thinking of, he turned his brown eyes on her and she felt transfigured, treasured, incomparable. How does he do it? How does he look at me that way? It is enchanting. But it is not an enchantment. It is all Chuck.
A/N: Chapter-closing song? "When You Come" by Crowded House.
