Hey guys! Long time no see! For those of you who were wondering, camp was amazing! Honestly, it made this the best summer of my life! And now, not only am I better violinist, but I can play the viola, and read alto clef, and I found out I'm a soprano singer! Who knew? Anywho, I figured it's about time we moved on with the story, so expect things to wrap up shortly. Thank you all for sticking with me, honestly it means a lot!
Disclaimer: I own nothing
"Let's go in through the lockers," Mary suggested as the group busted through the doors of the Buy More. "It'll be less strenuous for Alex than going down the trap door."
Morgan nodded in agreement and turned to his wife. "Honey, how are you holding up?"
Alex, breathing heavily and clutching her stomach, bobbed her head and grabbed her husband's hand. "Just get me to Castle, so I can have this baby!" She hissed. Morgan rushed ahead to the locker rooms and opened the secret door. The group was hustled inside before the door was completely opened, and Mary stayed behind to impatiently wait for the door to close again.
"What is dis pwace?" Emma breathed as she took in the sight of Castle from the balcony. It was a large room sectioned off into smaller rooms, each containing items that she couldn't name. What she saw, but couldn't identify, were computers, large screens, desks piled high with equipment, a large armory, a conference room, and a hallway of small prison cells. Before she was done looking at everything, Mary rushed passed her to a computer and frantically began to type. Three seconds later, Castle took on a tint of red and loud alarms went off. Emma cried and covered her ears with her hands, and before she could register what was happening she felt her Uncle Morgan pick her up and rush her and her Aunt down the stairs and into one of the prison cells.
"Is this a good place?" Morgan asked as he rushed back over to Mary.
"Of course, the room is completely bullet-proof, and I can tint the door so Emma and Alex don't have to see what's going on. Just wait until I get inside and you can lock it down."
"Why me?" Morgan squeaked.
"I need to help Alex deliver the baby, and you need to keep our attackers at bay!"
"Do we even know if anyone is coming?" As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Morgan saw a bright red banner fly across the screen with the words INTRUDER ALERT in the middle. Mary switched to the security footage and saw a group of about ten men walk into the Buy More, all armed with guns and ammo.
"You're going to need to call more of your men!" Mary called over her shoulder to the two Gertrude agents who, until now, had been idling unhelpfully in the corner.
"Yes M'am." The first man replied as he pulled out his phone.
"What if they don't get here in time?" Morgan asked frantically.
"Then you three need to fight!" Mary said sternly as she walked back to the prison cell.
"Bu-Bu-But I… I can't, I can't!" Morgan stammered.
"Morgan!" Alex shouted from the bench. "You know what to do! You've been part of the team for the past five years, you worked under my father, you've saved your friends, you've helped the save the world- I think you can save your family."
"My fam.." Morgan trailed off. His family. His wife, who was about to give him a child. His godchild and niece, who is all he has left of his brother and best friend. Mary, who gave him his best friend. He needed to protect these people. Before he changed his mind, Morgan gave Emma a hug, kissed his wife and her stomach, and kissed Mary's cheek, and then locked them in the prison cell. "I love you!" He mouthed as he tinted the windows.
Before he lost his confidence, Morgan rushed to the armory and prepped himself. A bullet proof vest, safety glasses, two back-up guns in a side holster, four magazines, a line of ammo, and a large shotgun that he was too busy to identify. He stepped out of the armory and called his troops to attention.
"Gentlemen," Morgan greeted as he dramatically removed his safety glasses. The tint of red, the loud alarms, and the newly-added sound of the pursuers attempting to break down the door only added to the atmosphere. "Time to fight."
o O o
Colonel John Casey was lying on the concrete floor of Lower Wacker Drive. A considerable amount of blood was gushing from his wound, and he was in pain. Not unfamiliar pain, but pain. After choking down some emergency painkillers and wrapping up his shoulder, Casey had called for help. That was fifteen minutes ago.
He shifted from his spot on the ground and peered behind him, grunting from the effort but searching desperately for a police officer, a passing car, a hobo that he could pay to run for help; anyone! As more blood left his body, Casey's mind began to grow fuzzy, and spots clouded his vision. He was getting too old for this. Casey had been in situations like these before, but he always ended up having some sort of help. Even that one Christmas when he was more than sure he was going to breathe his last breath, and went so far as to record a message for Alex on a stuffed bear, he found a way out of it.
This time, he knew it was a matter of his mindset. When you break it down, a shoulder wound isn't too bad. All he had to do was wrap it up (check), take some painkillers (check), call for help (check), and if help isn't coming fast enough he had to get up and look for help. No check. Casey tried to get up, but he just didn't have the strength, physically or mentally. So many things have happened. Chuck is dead. As much as Casey tried to tell himself it wasn't that great of a loss, he still felt saddened by it. Casey had cared for Chuck since he was ordered to kill him those short seven years ago. That kid didn't deserve to die. No American Hero deserves to die.
Casey promised himself that if he didn't take care of Chuck, then he would take care of Sarah. But he failed to do that too. Not only was Sarah captured, but she had been a wreck, and Casey didn't know what to do about it. And, while he was off helping/protecting Sarah, he left his own pregnant daughter in the protection of Morgan and Mrs. Bartowski. Although he knew she was in good hands, one could never be too sure. Casey loved Alex, and he loved his unborn grandchild, and all he wanted to do was see the soon-to-be happy family. Before he died.
A new strength flood through him, and before he knew it Casey had managed to sit up and rest against the wall of the tunnel. It wasn't much, but it was a start. At least from here he'd have a better chance of seeing any help. Speaking of help, how long had it been since he had called for some? As he pulled out his phone to check, Casey saw that he had a new voicemail. He brought the phone to his ear and was soon met by his daughter's voice:
"Dad? Hi, it's Alex. I don't really know why I'm telling you this, since there's not much you can do about it, but… I don't know, I just have to tell you. Two men came by the house and tried to attack us, but Morgan and Mary managed to stop them. Nobody is hurt, and Gertrude's men have finally come, and we're heading to Castle now just in case other group decides to come, but… Dad I just went into labor, and I'm kind of scared because the baby is coming, and we're under attack, and Morgan is going to have to fight, and Emma is probably going to be scared for life, and… Be safe, and call me? Love you!"
A new feeling surged through the Colonel. Anger. Sadness. Guilt. Anger. His daughter was in labor, and she was being attacked. Morgan, that skinny, weak, bearded person was going to try to protect her. And all of this was happening in front of a two year old child who lost her father just days ago? With an angry grunt, Casey pushed himself to his feet, leaned against the wall momentarily, and pushed himself forward. Just keep putting one foot forward, that's all he had to do. Soon, he found himself at the foot of the steps leading to the busy streets of Chicago. The climb was long and hard, but worth it when he reached the top. A smile of relief passed his face as he collapsed on the concrete sidewalk of the busy city and heard a frantic pedestrian call for help…
o O o
Sarah woke up with splitting headache, fuzzy vision, a ringing in her ears, and the taste of cotton in her mouth. She blinked and hazily took in her surroundings. She was in a large room, with a tall ceiling, metal walls, and blinding lights. Looking down, Sarah saw that she was double tied to a metal chair that was nailed to the floor. Jacob Bower obviously knew what he was doing. Sarah let her head drop back down on her shoulder and closed her eyes. She didn't want to deal with this. Not now. Not ever. She wanted to be back at her dream home with the red door and white picket fence, sitting on the couch in her husband's embrace holding their child, talking about nothing and everything at the same time. Something told her that those days may never return.
"Sarah?"
No, she didn't want to talk, she didn't want to fight, she just wanted to sit here and think about the past, back when things were better and everyone was together and safe, and-
"Sarah!"
Her eyes snapped open. She knew that voice. "Ellie?"
"Oh my God, Sarah! Thank God you're okay!" Ellie cried.
"I'm fine, where are you?" Sarah asked.
"In the room next to you, the walls are pretty thin."
"Ellie," Sarah croaked. "Ellie, what the hell is going on?"
"Sarah," Ellie said softly. She almost sounded like she was crying. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Sarah, I- Ah!"
A loud SLAP! sounded, and Sarah jumped in her chair. "Keep your mouth shut." A voice said sternly.
Soon her door opened, and Jacob Bower came strolling in. "If you ever touch her again, I swear to God-"
Sarah felt a cold hand wrap around her throat and stop her words, as Jacob leaned close and whispered menacingly, "You need to learn to keep your mouth shut too." He released his grip, and Sarah took in a deep breath of air.
"What do you want?" She whispered hoarsely. "You got your revenge, so why are you terrorizing my family and holding me and my sister-in-law hostage?"
"That's a good question," Jacob replied as he paced around the room. "You would think that after killing the man who ruined my life, I'd feel just fine and dandy and leave and move on. And for a while, I thought that was going to be the plan. But then I started thinking; what if I got more than revenge? What if I got my life back? And that's what I'm doing. When you tried to put that tracker on me, I was making a phone call to a couple of friends of mine. They're on their way to your daughter, mother-in-law, and two friends now. With them out of the way, that only leaves you. And then, I can get my life back."
"I don't understand," Sarah whispered. Normally the idea of someone coming after her family in Burbank would terrify her, but she knew they would be protected. Gertrude's men were guarding them, and they had Mary and Morgan. They'll be okay. What she was focusing on, was that he changed the plan. His original plan was that he was going to kill Chuck, but if he changed the plan, could that mean… "Is my husband really dead?"
Jacob, who was on his way out the door, turned and looked at Sarah, confused that she wasn't worried for her family. Finally, after a moment's consideration, he answered. "Yes Mrs. Bartowski. The man you know and love is very much dead."
And with that said, he left.
Sarah stared ahead, lost in her thoughts. Oh. Chuck really was dead. But she knew that, it's not as if she had been hoping that maybe he was somehow alive and they would go home and live happily ever after. She knew he was dead. A small tear rolled down her cheek, and Sarah angrily swiped it off with her shoulder. This is ridiculous. She can't be upset over something she already knew about. It made no sense!
Except… except Sarah didn't know for sure. Except, Sarah had been harboring this fantasy that Chuck really was alive. Except for the first time since this whole nightmare started, Sarah truly felt the loss of her husband. The love of her life is dead. Never again will he hold her, kiss her, be her shoulder to cry on, call her beautiful, help her when Emma is being fussy, cover her toes when they got cold, save her life on a mission, get in a near-death experience and give her a heart attack, dance with her, give her another child. All of those beautiful, precious moments. Gone.
Sarah hung her head and cried. Tears freely cascaded down her cheeks, and her body shook hard, but she didn't care. Her husband was really dead. Her life was ruined. This is why she didn't want to fall in love with Chuck, and this is why she wanted to quit the spy life. Sarah couldn't help but feel responsible for what happened. If only they hadn't had pushed him to join the CIA, if only they took the Intersect out of his head and had just let the damn thing go! They probably wouldn't have gotten together, but Chuck would have been alive. Then Emma wouldn't exist… God, what was she going to tell Emma when she starts asking questions? How was she supposed to raise Emma by herself? How could he just leave her like this?
Right now, Emma was all the way in Burbank without her parents. Although Sarah told herself not to worry, how could she not? Emma was her daughter, her baby and the only thing she had left of Chuck. Now she could be under attack, and there is nothing Sarah can do to help her.
Sarah didn't know how long she stayed like that, torturing herself with her thoughts, but when Jacob returned she knew she'd rather continue her actions than deal with him. He stared at her for a couple of minutes, an amused look on his face. Finally, he spoke.
"Don't worry; you'll soon see your husband again." Jacob said smoothly. He stepped aside and Sarah saw that there was a figure behind him. "I've brought someone to reunite you two."
This is it, Sarah thought as she closed her eyes. This is how she dies. Part of her knew she had to fight, that she had a child waiting for her at home and that it was her responsibility to stop him. However, part of her wanted to sit here and take it; she was tired, she knew she didn't have the will power to fight, and the idea of seeing Chuck again… No. Sarah Bartowski is a fighter.
She opened her eyes and set the man before her with a gaze so cold and chilling it could curdle dairy…
…suddenly her eyes softened into an incredulous look, and she gasped.
"Mrs. Bartowski, prepare to meet your end."
"….Chuck?"
Let the choruses of "I knew it!" and "I told you so!"'s begin! If you like what you read, feel free to drop a review! Please? Pretty please? With ice cream and cherry on top?
Review Replies:
Princesakarlita411: Thanks! And even without the BTTF reference, I like the name Marty too :)
phnxgrl: Haha, I thought the story needed a little comic relief! Thank you so much!
E5150Julian: I think this chapter kinda helped connect everything together, thanks for the review!
ursookrazie: I figured it was time to check up on the rest of the team, and good I was hoping someone would get the reference! And… now you know!
ChuckFan22: Aw, thank you so much, that really means a lot!
ljacob: Well, let the suspense end! Haha, thanks!
Musicalmania: Thank you so much, I love Back to the Future, and I'm glad that you liked the Hans Solo attachment! Also, thanks, the camp was amazing, I had the best time!
wassupchuck: Yeah, the story had been lacking in the action. Thanks for reading/reviewing!
Eric425: I had actually been waiting a while to use that reference. Chapter 9 was really one of the funnest chapters to write! And thanks, I had a great time!
Review!