A/N: If you read the title, you're probably thinking "Seriously? You're killing off another character? Are you on drugs?" Well, I can honestly tell you that, no, I am not on drugs, and no, I'm not killing off another character. Well…technically…oh, you just have to read to find out.

I had to split this chapter into two parts, due to it being over 10,000 words. That's just a warning, because there's a section in this chapter that may seem out of place. Oh, in case it comes off as vague, Sarah's flashback takes place about a week after the events in Chuck vs the Marlin.

Once again, I thank you all for reading and reviewing, and giving this story here a chance.

Oh, in case you were confused by the last chapter, Shaw had already set the bombs in the Cathedral basement during Chuck and Sarah's wedding. I believe I mentioned that in chapter eight…Just thought I should clear that up.

South Hill Plaza Parking Garage

Ten Minutes before the Explosion

He knew there was no way the Black Ops team would be able to catch Shaw. There was no way they could have. Surely, Shaw had chosen to meet at the mall for a reason: he already had an escape planned out. I should have just shot him…

Digging his hand into his pocket, Chuck pulled out his phone. He had ninety seconds to debrief Sarah, and to see whether everyone in Cathedral made it out okay. If he talked longer, then the Ring would be able to pin-point his location. He would have to ditch his phone after this. Luckily, he and Sarah had practiced their ninety second conversations in case they ever were in a situation like this. When Sarah originally suggested that they practice, years ago, Chuck laughed. But now, Chuck was thankful that they had. Taking a deep breath, Chuck pushed the 'send' button, and waited for Sarah's answer.

"Orion was unable to hack through Shaw's coding" Sarah's voice called through the phone. "But he was able to unlock the door to the roof access. Morgan found a way to delay the bomb from detonating. Agents are transporting analysts by zip-lining. Cathedral's nearly completely evacuated. Everyone should be able to get out of there safely."

"Shaw got away. I was unable to shoot him." He spat a bit of blood bitterly to the ground. "Black Ops are attempting to reacquire him as we speak. Is the Barstow safe-house secure?"

"Yes."

"I'll see you there. Destroying the phone." With that, he threw his phone down on the ground with all his might.

As Chuck stumbled into the black, NSA issued GMC Suburban; he immediately began to pry out the built-in GPS from the dashboard. Now that the Ring had control of all of the CIA's resources, they'd most likely be able to track this car. When the damn thing wouldn't budge, he frustratingly pulled his gun from his waistband, and began to slam the piece against the GPS. He felt pieces of glass from the screen embed into his hand, but he didn't care.

Shoving his hand through the broken screen, Chuck blindly felt around for the wires. Threading his fingers around a half dozen wires, he made a fist, and yanked them all out. When he pulled out all of the components, he threw them out of the window. Once again, his hand was scratched by the broken fragments of glass, and once again, he could have cared less. All he cared about was the safety of those inside Cathedral…he knew if anything happened to them, it would be his fault for being a coward…

"Barstow Safe-House"

Thirty Minutes after the Explosion

Sarah paced around the small cottage that she, Chuck, and Casey had all chipped in their own money to use as their safe house about a year ago. They decided to purchase this place about a week after the Ring had somehow managed to sneak into Castle. While they had been able to overpower the Ring operatives that time, they couldn't be so sure that it wouldn't happen again. That's when Chuck came up with the idea to get a safe-house somewhere not too far from Burbank and Los Angeles, and he found this small cottage near Verdugo Mountain Park. It was Sarah's idea to give it the codename, "Barstow Safe-House" if they ever needed to use it in case they were in a compromising situation…such as the one they're in now.

Of course, with Casey being Casey, he convinced them, Chuck and Sarah, to load the cottage up with what he called, "a small cache of weapons." A small cache of weapons to Casey meant an artillery of M4 carbine rifles, a handful of SIG-Sauer P229's for himself, a few Smith & Wesson's for Sarah, Casey's mini-gun, some shotguns, landmines, and grenades. Sarah had to chuckle at the absurdity of it all…after all, while they remembered to gather guns, security equipment, and clothes, they had neglected to bring nonperishable food…

From outside, Sarah heard tires screeching. On alert, she sprinted over to the security monitor to see who had just arrived. The screen showed a black Crown Victoria, and a livid Casey slamming his car door, followed by Alex, Carina, and Forrest. Where was Morgan?

"Hey, Stephen!" Sarah called over to the older man who had been typing furiously away at his computer. "Can you get the door?"

The man nodded, and made his way over to the front door.

"What happened?" asked Sarah when the new arrivals came in.

"All the analysts made it out," said Casey with a solemn look. He paused for a moment, staring at the ground, and for the first time, Sarah saw a look of sadness sketched on his face. "Grimes…" he muttered. "We lost Grimes…"

"What…?" Sarah asked, not believing him. But as she looked upon Carina's uncharacteristic solemn expression and Alex's tear streaked face, she realized that Morgan Grimes was gone…

Wienerlicious

Early January, 2008

She's worked here for four months now, and even still, she feels ridiculous when she wakes up every morning to put her blond hair up in pig tails, and has to wear this ridiculous German beer maid outfit. Honestly, this cover job may be her worst cover yet…and she's had a lot of bad cover jobs in the past…

While she hated this job, she didn't complain. After all, it was only a cover job, and she always had Chuck's lunch hour to look forward to. But today was different. Actually, the last few weeks have been different. Ever since she narrowly saved Chuck from being in Fulcrum's captivity, she was colder to him. She had nearly compromised herself…her emotions. She was seconds away from actually shooting a fellow CIA agent, Longshore, just so she could save him from being put in an underground bunker!

Chuck is an asset and assets eventually get burned…that's why from here on out, she has to be cold to him. There are bigger things in this world than her feelings for Chuck, and she knew that.

As Sarah placed a batch of frozen corndogs into the deep fryer, she heard the door jingling. It wasn't Chuck, she knew. They haven't said more than two words to each other that wasn't mission related ever since they had stood out in front of Ellie and Devon's window.

"Willkommen to Wienerlicious!" she said airily, not turning away from the deep fryer. "What can I get you for you today?"

"How about a bratwurst with extra sauerkraut?" a familiar voice called. She turned and saw a short bearded man with unkempt hair, and let out a sigh. Morgan…Chuck had always told her that it takes people awhile to truly appreciate Morgan, but she's known him for four months, and well…he still annoyed her.

"Hey, Morgan," she said, attempting to sound cheerful (and failing); her smile hadn't quite reached her eyes. "One brat with extra sauerkraut coming right up! So how are you today?"

"Oh, I'm good…" replied Morgan, waving a hand. "Actually, while I do enjoy a good hotdog, I'm not exactly here for that."

"Oh?" asked Sarah, as she pulled a sausage out from the vat, and held it over the grill. If he wasn't here for a hotdog, there was no point in wasting one if he wasn't going to eat it…

"You can throw it on there," he said, gesturing to the grill. Sarah shrugged, and plopped the bratwurst down on the grill. "Actually, I'm here because of Chuck…"

"Is he okay?" she asked. If Chuck was in trouble, he would have pushed the panic button on his watch. Plus, Casey was on shift…wait, he's at the BuyMore…not everything in this world is related to the spy world.

"That's the thing," replied Morgan. "I don't know. I was hoping you could tell me, yellow haired girl."

"What do you mean?" asked Sarah, tensing up. But she knew what Morgan meant. She was being a terrible girlfriend, what with avoiding Chuck all the time. It was bad for their cover.

"Listen," Morgan sighed. "You know about Chuck's ex, Jill, right?"

"Right…"

"Well, as his best friend, I feel that I have the right to know. Should I be prepared for another one of Chuck's depression episodes?"

"Uh…are you asking if Chuck and I are going to break up?" she asked, placing the bratwurst on a hotdog bun, and lathering sauerkraut on top. She wrapped up the hotdog, and handed it to the short, bearded man.

"Well, yeah. I need to be prepared if you do…I think he's going to be really torn up."

"Why would he be?"

Morgan looked up at Sarah in disbelief. "Have you seen the way that guy looks at you? I mean, every time you walk into the BuyMore, Chuck's face lights up like he's seeing the Mona Lisa for the first time in his life! Whenever he came home on weekends, sometimes he'd bring Jill. And believe me; he was head over heels for her. But he didn't look at her the way he looks at you…if you guys break up, I have feeling that he's going to be a million times more depressed than he was when Jill dumped him. I need to know, because (a), he's my best friend, and (b), I need to be prepared to help him out of the hole of depression that he's going to dig himself into!"

She couldn't help the chuckle from escaping through her lips. I really doubt Chuck would sink into a depression over me. After all, it was just a cover. As she thought that, she knew she was lying to herself. It wasn't 'just a cover.' It was so much more…

"Listen, Morgan…" Sarah began to wipe the counter with a rag just for something to do. "Chuck and I…" she searched for the right words, "are…just in a rut. We'll be fine."

"Really?" he inquired. He took a large bite off his hotdog, and Sarah watched as the sauerkraut began to spill onto the floor. She just mopped the floor less than five minutes ago!

"Yes, really," she sighed. If she broke up with Chuck, then Graham would most likely kick her off of this assignment, and she would never be able to see Chuck again.

"Good, because I was worried for awhile." Morgan's beard was covered with bits of bread and sauerkraut, so Sarah handed him a napkin. Instead of wiping his face, he wiped a bit of grease off his fingers. "Thanks. Yeah…but anyway. I mean, Chuck doesn't admit it, but I think he's scared…"

"Scared of what?"

Morgan shrugged. "You, I guess." Sarah raised an eyebrow.

"Why would he be scared of me?"

"Well…think about it," said Morgan, rolling his eyes. "Nearly everyone that he's loved in his life left him—his parents, Jill—and even if he won't admit it, Chuck loves you. He's afraid that you're going to leave him."

An agonizing discomfort filled her heart.

"Chuck's lucky to have a friend like you," she finally said after what felt like hours of silence. "Looking out for him, I mean…" Morgan gave her a friendly smile and waved her comment off.

"He'd do the same for me," said Morgan. "I meant to say this to you a couple of weeks ago, but you've been avoiding the BuyMore. Well, I wanted to say thank you."

"Why are you thanking me?" asked Sarah, surprised.

"Why wouldn't I be?" asked Morgan rhetorically. "Ever since you came along, Chuck's been…Chuck again. He's smiling a lot more, cracking jokes; he's getting his mojo back. It's all thanks to you, Sarah. Chuck's very lucky to have a girlfriend like you."

She didn't know what to say, because that last statement from Morgan was far from the truth. Chuck deserved so much better than her.

"You don't have to make stuff up…" she mumbled.

"Who says I'm making it up? I'm serious! Chuck's a lucky man, Sarah! I mean, you're hot, you're smart, and that makes me wonder why you're working here." He gestured around the restaurant, and Sarah gave an airy shrug in response. "You're really cool despite the fact you don't play video games, and you're constantly offering support for Chuck!" Morgan gave her a grin, and said, "Well, I should get back to work. It was nice talking to you!"

"Yeah, you too," she said, watching as Morgan began to make his way toward the door. "Hey, Morgan!" she called.

"Yeah?"

"Is Chuck on his break?"

"He is, actually. He decided to just hang out in the break room for today…"

Sarah gave him a smile. "Do you think you can sneak me into the break room?"

"Of course! You don't even have to sneak in…Big Mike's in his donut coma, and no one else is going to care…" Morgan rambled. "Well, c'mon then! Let's go!"

Chuckling, Sarah locked up the register, switched off the fryers, and leapt over the counter. "Thanks, Morgan."

She had to admit, Morgan was finally growing on her…

Chuck stepped out of the Suburban, and into the brisk air. He made his way over to the small cottage, and before he could find his key to unlock the door, it swung open, revealing Casey—his face twisted in anger. Casey grabbed Chuck roughly by his shirt, and pulled him inside. Stumbling into the cottage, Chuck turned to face Casey.

"What's your problem, man?" he demanded, his eyes dropping from Casey's glare, as he searched for Sarah. The small cottage felt extremely warm. It wasn't surprising, seeing as the small space was crowded with seven people. When his eyes landed on Sarah, looking grief-stricken, he stepped up, ready to offer her comfort. However, as he began to move forward, Casey's voice shook the room.

"Why didn't you shoot Shaw, Chuck?" he demanded, looking irate. Chuck's mouth bobbed up and down as he searched for an excuse. Because I'm a coward, he wanted to say. But Casey didn't wait for his answer. "From what I understand, you had the chance to shoot Shaw, and you didn't take it!"

"Casey, I—" Chuck fell back as Casey's fist collided with his face. Another wave of pain shot through his head as it collided with the hard, wooden floor. He heard a shuffling of footsteps, followed by a series of Casey's grunts.

"Stand down, Casey!" Sarah screamed. Chuck looked up from the ground to see Sarah, Carina, Alex, and Forrest all attempting Casey from advancing on him. And then it hit him…where was Morgan?

It was as if Casey read his mind, as he began to bellow, "Grimes is dead, and it's because you didn't take the shot! You fucking coward!" Casey tore through the women holding him back.

Although he knew that Casey's punches were landing on his face, he didn't feel them. All he felt was the excruciating pain in his chest…

Once again, everyone in the room, his father included, pulled Casey off of him.

"Fucking coward…" Casey spat, shaking the hands holding him off.

He felt the accusatory glares coming from Carina, Forrest, and Alex; and the sympathetic looks from Sarah and his father, but he couldn't bear to meet anyone's gazes. Instead, he focused on the ground—the burning in his eyes indicating tears of sorrow and regret from knowing that he had just killed his best friend…

Encino, CA

1990

A small boy sat, curled into a corner letting tears fall freely down his face. In his hands, he held a picture of himself; leaning into a friendly faced, brunette woman. Less than twenty-four hours ago, that woman had left his life, and he blamed himself. After all, he did break her favorite necklace. He could never forget the pained look on his mother's face as he tried to explain to her that it was an accident, and that he had tried his very best to try to fix it.

A knock from his door echoed across the room. Looking up, and wiping his eyes with a free hand, he looked up. The door opened slowly, and eventually revealed his friend.

"Hey, Chuck," smiled Morgan. "You weren't at school today. How come?"

Chuck didn't say anything. Instead, he looked back down at the ground.

"What's wrong, buddy?" asked the smaller boy, sitting down next to him. "Are you sick? Is that why you didn't come to school today?"

Chuck shook his head. From the corner of his eye, he saw Morgan studying him with a concerned expression.

"No…" gasped Morgan, quickly standing up and heading toward Chuck's toy chest. "Did someone steal Optimus?"

The smaller boy began digging through a toy box, and breathed a sigh of relief as his fingers wrapped around a blue and red robot action figure.

"Thank Yoda…" said Morgan, breathing a sigh of relief. He knew that Optimus Prime was Chuck's most prized possession. "Well, if it isn't Optimus…is something else missing?"

Chuck nodded. "My mom left last night…"

"Oh…"

Morgan looked around, looking for something to distract his friend with. Without a word, he turned and left the room. Minutes later, Chuck saw him walking back into the room, carrying a plate of cherry cheesecake and two forks.

"C'mon, buddy," Morgan smiled encouragingly, as he handed Chuck a fork. "It's Friday! You know what that means, don't you? Cherry cheesecake and The Legend of Zelda!" Morgan set the plate down, and walked over to the Nintendo to turn it on. As he walked back next to Chuck, he handed him the controller. "You can go first!"

For the next eight hours, Chuck was able to shove aside the feeling of abandonment as he laughed at Morgan cracking jokes, his thumbs sore from hours of playing Zelda, his stomach close to bursting from the cherry cheesecake…for those eight hours, he was just able to have fun and feel safe again…

It could have been minutes, it could have been hours, or maybe days, Chuck didn't know how much time had passed. He didn't care. As Casey, his father, Carina, and Forrest were in the small dining room, discussing what their next move should be, Chuck sat squeezed into a corner. Sarah sat by his side, her arm over his hunched shoulders. He didn't deserve to feel comforted by her, but aside from the crushing guilt, he felt warmth as Sarah would gently rub his back…he felt comfort. At that, he just felt selfish, because while he should just push her away, so that he could grieve alone. But he didn't want to be alone.

Alex sat in a corner opposite from Chuck; her eyes wide from shock, staring at nothing but the ground. At the sight of her, he felt another wave of grief and guilt. It was rare for…anyone, really, to give Morgan a chance upon the first moment they had met him. But Alex did give him a chance, and it felt as though Chuck was denying Morgan from something special. He was denying Alex something special…

The sound of heavy footsteps coming closer drew Chuck out of his thoughts. As a large shadow loomed over him, he looked up to see Casey's silhouette. Although he couldn't see the man's face, he knew that Casey was scowling.

"Casey," Sarah said warningly, attempting to get up off of the floor. Before she could, Chuck grabbed her wrist.

"It's okay." Those had been the first words he had said since he found out about Morgan, and the words came out in a monotonous tone. "Whatever Casey does, I deserve it…"

"I'm not going to kick your ass again, Bartowski," Casey grunted, handing Chuck a flask filled with scotch—Johnny Walker Black. "I just want to talk." Casey looked at Sarah, and nodded toward Alex. "You want to talk to her?"

"Yeah," said Sarah, giving Chuck's shoulder another squeeze, as she got up and moved across the small room where Alex was. Staring blankly at the flask, Chuck saw Casey taking a seat against the wall from the corner of his eye.

"Drink," Casey ordered. After Chuck had shot down the drink, he handed the flask back to Casey. "Listen…I was out of line before—"

"No," Chuck mumbled. "I deserved that…" Casey gave a grunt, and shook his head.

"Did I ever tell you about my first my first year as a marine?" asked Casey.

"No…"

"Awhile back, after I graduated high school, a buddy of mine and I joined the Marines." Casey screwed the lid back on the flask, and threw it aside; a dull clunk echoed through the room. "Me and him…man, we've been friends since we were little kids. He was my best friend." Chuck glanced over at Casey who was just staring straight ahead. "After we joined, we went through basic and what not, I became a sniper, and he was infantry. After our training, we were sent out to Beirut.

"We were in the city, guarding our barracks. He was on the ground; I was up in a bird's nest, keeping an eye out. One day, a man who I thought was a civilian approached my friend. To be safe, I kept my aim on the civilian, but everything seemed okay. Then I saw that the guy had a hand on his gun…I don't know if he was a rebel or what." Casey reached over to the flask, and took another sip of scotch before he continued.

"I knew what I had to do. I had to shoot the bastard," he said. "But I couldn't pull the damn trigger. I don't know why…I still don't. I guess it's because at the time, I never killed anyone. Yeah, the Corp. teaches you how to have that killer instinct, but when it actually comes down to it, it's hard. There's no way anyone could teach that…" Casey sighed. "Anyway, I didn't pull the trigger…and my friend got shot. And it was all because I couldn't shoot the other bastard…"

Chuck watched as Casey tilted his head back, draining out the scotch from the flask.

"After that, I was a changed man. I trained harder, I was colder to everyone, and I was determined not to ever let something like that happen again," Casey continued. "I told myself that I needed to kill…I needed to get back at those fuckers who killed my friend. Then they attacked the barracks…I was up in the bird's nest again, and I got my first kill. I got the pink mist…

"Let me tell you something, Bartowski, the shit I went through after my buddy died was nothing compared to the shit I went through after seeing a man drop dead because of what I did…" Casey's jaws clenched as he began to flex his fingers. "I changed a lot after that…lost more friends because I had changed so much; I even lost my family because I pushed them all away. And that's why I campaigned so hard against your red test."

"What do you mean?" asked Chuck.

"Shit…" Casey mumbled, chuckling. "You have all your friends, your sister…hell, even Sarah. You're a good kid, and if you did take that red test, then…you would have changed. And not for the better. You would start pushing away the people in your life, like I did. And like me, you would have pushed away everyone that's important to you. So that's why I never let you carry around a real gun, Bartowski. I didn't want you to go through that. Neither did Sarah."

Chuck didn't know what to say. Yes, he was grateful, but at the same time, he wasn't. He was a good spy, but he remembered always feeling as though Sarah and Casey had held him back from reaching his potential. But he can't really blame them for that. After all, their job used to be to protect him, and they just got used to looking out for him…

"But maybe I was too soft on you," said Casey, as though he were reading Chuck's mind. "At the least, I should have prepared you for it…let you know that there comes a time in any spy's life where they'll have to make the kill, and when the time comes, they'll never be the same again. And I'm sorry I never told you that, because…well…you had to learn it the hard way." Casey paused, allowing the words to sink in. After a few seconds, he asked, "You know what you may have to do, right?"

Chuck nodded. "I may have to kill Shaw the next time I see him. Yeah…"

"That's right…we don't know what Shaw's after, but we do know that he doesn't give a shit for other peoples' lives," said Casey. "And men like Shaw…well, they deserve what's coming for them..."

"I know what he's after," Chuck mumbled. Casey raised an eyebrow. "He's after Sarah. She's the agent who killed his wife six years ago."

"Christ…" Casey groaned, bringing a hand up to his forehead.

"I don't know if I can tell Sarah though," said Chuck, feeling ashamed—feeling cowardly. "I hate keeping her in the dark, but I know how she is, and she'll blame herself for everything that happened today. She'll just go straight to Shaw, and…I can't lose her too…"

Casey just nodded. "I know…no one wants to lose her, Chuck. She's a good agent, and a better person. I'll help you protect her."

"Thanks," Chuck said gratefully. For awhile, neither man spoke. Many things ran through Chuck's mind: Morgan's death, Sarah's wellbeing, Casey's friend…

"Casey?" he asked, breaking the silence. The colonel glanced over at Chuck.

"What?"

"What was your friend's name?"

Casey didn't answer immediately. Instead, he stood up, and pulled a cigar out from the inner pocket of his jacket. "Let's talk outside," he said, nodding pointedly at the door. Chuck rose to his feet, and followed Casey outside, waiting for him to light his cigar.

"His name was John Casey," Casey finally said, licking his lips.

Chuck stared at him in confusion. "What…? But that's your name…" Casey shook his head.

"The man that got me into the NSA, Colonel James Keller, he was there in Beirut…in charge of our unit." Casey paused to take a long drag from his cigar. "He wasn't happy with me after I couldn't take the shot. Always held it against me. Years later, he asked me to join the NSA, but told me that I needed a new name. He chose John Casey…I guess it was a reminder for me to not hesitate. My real name's…Alex Coburn."

Alex Coburn? Where had Chuck heard that name…? Alex Coburn…Chuck's mouth dropped open in shock. He had read it in Alex's file! "You're…you're Alex's dad?" he whispered. "Does she know?"

"I didn't even know that I had a daughter till I read her file," said Casey. "So no, she doesn't know. And she can't know."

"But, Casey—"

"She's lived her whole life thinking that her father died for his country. Imagine how she'd react if she found out that her father's a liar."

"I don't know about her, but I remember when my dad left. I always thought he left because he was a coward, but it turns out he wasn't," said Chuck. "When I found out that he left to protect Ellie and me, well…I didn't think he was a coward. In fact, I thought he was pretty noble."

"It's different."

"Is it?" Chuck challenged.

"We have bigger problems to worry about, kid," said Casey. "How are we going to get Shaw?"

"The 3.0's made him nearly invincible. Even the five of us all working together won't stand a chance against him.

We have two choices: we wait a couple of years until the 3.0 causes his brain to hemorrhage, but that's hardly a choice. We both know that Shaw will kill anyone to get to Sarah. The last thing we need is more innocent blood spilled."

"Right…what's the second choice?"

"The second choice is…" Chuck swallowed, but his mind had been made up ever since he had heard Morgan had died. "…that I download the 3.0..."

A/N: Uh-oh…

Once again, thank you for reading…I hope this chapter gets a better response than the last. Oh, the next chapter should be posted soon…I still have some kinks to work out.

Some stuff to look forward to in the next chapter: Sarah and Alex's conversation (originally supposed to be in this chapter), a new mission plan, and a new objective.

Oh, and bad-ass, ass kicking Sarah shall return…