Wednesday, December 8th, 2010

Chuck Bartowski had been locked in his apartment for the last week, not setting foot outside once.

Groceries had been ordered from Vons' website and delivered by truck. His primary food group had become pizza – Papa John's had disappeared, he was annoyed to discover, but both Pizza Hut and Domino's were still quite happy to take his money.

With Sarah, Jill, Bryce, and Devin all disappearing in the same day – not to mention the brief and bizarre reappearance of Veronica – Chuck had had the biggest freak-out of all time. And Ellie and Morgan were concerned.

"He's basically turned into Howard Hughes," Morgan mused as they walked down the corridor toward Chuck's apartment.

"If he's keeping bottles full of urine in there, I'm gonna smack him," Ellie replied.

When they reached the apartment, Ellie knocked on the door. There was no answer, so she knocked again. After knocking a third time, she yelled, "I know you're in there, Chuck!"

After they had been standing at the door for a couple of minutes, Morgan lifted his fist and started rhythmically pounding the door. Finally, it was wrenched open. "JESUS CHRIST!" Chuck roared. "I WAS ON THE FUCKING TOILET!"

Morgan and Ellie's eyes widened, and they looked at each other. "Sorry, dude," Morgan said quietly, turning his gaze back to Chuck. "You know, you've been cooped up in here for the last week… we've been a little worried."

Chuck sighed, and his expression softened. "You're right," he said quietly. "I'm sorry. Come in."

Chuck's sister and best friend stepped into the apartment – and to both their surprise, it wasn't the Howard Hughes-like disaster they had been expecting. Granted, Chuck looked a little like the Wild Man of Borneo, but at least it was evident that he'd showered in the last twenty-four hours, and his seven days' beard growth was groomed.

The empty pizza boxes were stacked neatly by the door. No napkins littered the living room, and the sink was surprisingly empty. What Ellie was interested in, though, was the state of the walls of his office.

Opening the door, she stepped into the darkness of the Nerd Cave. Reaching to her left, she flipped on the switch –

And her breath escaped her. The walls looked almost like an art gallery. There were the ones she had seen before – John and Lisa, Reese, Logan Echolls, Veronica Mars. But more had been added, ones Ellie hadn't seen before – Lou Pirelli, Carina Hansen, John Casey.

Then there were the four that Chuck said had disappeared a week beforehand. Two pencil sketches – Jill Marie Tanner and Devin Alan Woodcomb. A slightly blurry charcoal sketch – Bryce David Larkin.

But it was the fourth one that really took Ellie's breath away. A canvas nearly six feet tall, the picture was clearly life-size. It had been done with pastels, a blonde woman with sparkling blue eyes, wearing a maroon leather jacket, blue jeans, and black high-heeled boots. Sarah Elisabeth Walker, said the inscription at the top.

"Wow," she breathed, aware of Chuck entering the room. "You really loved her, didn't you?"

"With all my heart," Chuck replied quietly. "I don't know how I can live without her."

Ellie sighed. "That's why Morgan and I are here, Chuck. I know that the CT we did on you two and a half weeks ago was negative, but something has to be wrong. You need help."

Chuck just stared at her. "So what's the plan, then?" he finally asked.

"We're gonna do another head CT on you," Ellie replied, "in addition to a functional MRI and a battery of other tests."

Chuck nodded. "Okay, so I understand why you're going with me. You're a doctor. But Morgan?"

Ellie looked at him sadly. "Chuck, he's your best friend, and it would prob-"

Chuck cut her off. "No, Ellie," he replied. He pointed at the life-size pastel of Sarah Walker. "She was my best friend. Is my best friend."

"Chuck," Ellie said quietly, "she never existed."

Chuck whirled toward her, but he didn't look angry. He looked determined. "That's where you're wrong, Ellie," he replied. "She was real. Every single person on this wall was real. That one, right there" – he pointed at the picture of Devin – "he was your husband! Don't you ever feel like there's an empty space in your life, like there's something missing?"

Ellie fell quiet as she thought. "I guess so," she said uncertainly. "I just… I never really gave it much thought."

Chuck nodded. "I understand," he replied. "There's no reason for you to. So…"

He walked out of the Nerd Cave and into his bedroom. "I tell you what. Let me get cleaned up. Let me shave, shower, all that. Take me to Cedars, run the tests. If there's nothing wrong with ME, then I think it's time that you start to actually perhaps believe what I've been saying."

Ellie nodded slowly. "Okay," she finally said. "That sounds fair. But make it quick, okay?"

Chuck pointed at his face and laughed. "This is gonna take a little while, sis."

Forty minutes later, the trio was headed east in Ellie's Pontiac. As they drove down Santa Monica Boulevard, Chuck was struck by how deserted the streets seemed to be.

"Why are there so few people on the Westside today?" he asked. "It's usually a zoo on Wednesdays!"

Morgan looked at him strangely. "Uh, I'm not sure if you're aware of this, Chuck, but only about a million people live here."

"In the city?!"

"In the metro area, dude."

Chuck's eyes widened. "You're kidding."

In the mirror, he could see Morgan shaking his head. "That's insane!" Chuck insisted. "There's supposed to be EIGHTEEN MILLION PEOPLE in the greater Los Angeles area! I mean, for God's sake, it stretches out to Ventura, and Palm Springs, and down halfway through Orange County!"

Morgan laughed. "Dude, who the hell would want to live in Orange County? It's a bunch of citrus orchards and rednecks."

Chuck practically choked when he heard that. "What about Disneyland?!"

"Disneywhat?"

Chuck was quiet the rest of the way to Cedars. As they approached the hospital, Chuck just shook his head in disbelief at how empty the area appeared to be. Then he noticed something very wrong.

"Where the fuck is the Beverly Center?!"

Ellie looked over at him, an alarmed look on her face. "The what?"

"The Beverly Center!" Chuck shot back. "It's an eight floor shopping center that's supposed to be across San Vicente Boulevard from Cedars-Sinai!"

"Chuck," Ellie replied, "there's an amusement park and an oil well over there. That's it."

Chuck clasped his hands to his head and squeezed his eyes shut. If it wasn't there, the Intersect wasn't going to flash on it, but surely he had SOME memory…

The Beverly Center was opened in March of 1982…

Chuck exhaled slowly. "Of course," he whispered. "It was built after all three of us were born. There's no reason for it to be there."

Ellie's look grew even more concerned, but she didn't say anything – she just kept driving.

"Alright, Chuck, I want you to think of… Sarah Walker," Ellie said over the intercom.

Chuck was flat on his back, his head under the functional MRI scanner. Chuck closed his eyes and envisioned Sarah – the very first time she had walked into the Buy More, wearing that maroon jacket and blue jeans. God, she had looked incredible.

"Chuck?"

"Yeah, Ellie?"

"I need you to think about Sarah."

Chuck lifted his head up. "What are you talking about?" he asked. "I am!"

"I'm not showing any brain activity at all, Chuck."

"What are you talking about?!"

"There's nothing, Chuck. Do me a favor. Think about me or Morgan."

Chuck closed his eyes, and Sarah appeared again. Walking into the Buy More.

"Stop the presses!" Morgan said. "Who is THAT?! Chuck… Chuck! Vicki Vale!"

"Okay, I got that," Ellie said. "Your brain just lit up like a Christmas tree."

Chuck furrowed his brow. "So what the hell does that mean?" he asked. "I think about Sarah, there's nothing… I think about Morgan, my brain goes cuckoo?"

He could hear Ellie sigh. "I really don't know, Chuck," she replied. "This is… kind of weird."

"KIND of weird?" Chuck laughed. "It's totally freakin' bizarre, that's what it is!"

"Okay, Chuck, I need you to calm back down," Ellie told him. "Think about somebody else who you said has disappeared."

Chuck tried to calm down – but for some reason, he couldn't stop laughing. The laughs kept coming, getting more and more hysterical. "CHUCK!" Ellie shouted. "Are you alright?"

"I don't know!" he called between laughs. "I-"

And that's when his head was hit with the falling anvil. The pain caused him to fall backwards onto the sliding pad. His body stiffened, almost as if he was having a seizure.

His arms were stiff, but he managed to bring them up to the sides of his head, almost as if he was holding it together. "CHUCK!" he heard Ellie yell. "Chuck! Chu-"

Her voice cut off at the same time the pain ceased. Chuck froze. He didn't breathe. He knew exactly what that meant.

Slowly, he slid himself out of the MRI, and stood, looking into the control booth. The chairs that had been occupied by Ellie and Morgan just seconds before were empty.

Chuck closed his eyes. His breathing got ragged, and he had to will himself not to cry. He had to will himself not to think about the fact that he was now alone.

He stepped into the control booth and changed out of the hospital gown into the clothes he had left in there. Picking up his phone, he turned it on, and pulled up the phonebook.

Empty. No phone numbers, no e-mail addresses – no names.

Attaching the phone to his belt, he stepped out into the hallway. "Hello?"

No answer.

He walked down the hall to the nurses' station. Nobody there. Nobody in any of the rooms. Nobody in the restroom.

Chuck didn't like this at all. It was starting to remind him a bit too much of I Am Legend. He made his way down to the lobby and out of the hospital.

There was nobody outside. Abandoned cars littered San Vicente Boulevard – empty. Curiously enough, none of them were running.

He walked up to Beverly Boulevard, almost in a daze, and turned left – heading back to Santa Monica. Maybe somewhere along the way, there would be a vehicle he could borrow.

Chuck got to the intersection of Beverly and Santa Monica before he finally found something. Every car he'd come to had been unlocked, no keys in the ignition, nothing. But there, in the parking lot of the convention center, was an L.A. Metro bus, its engine on and idling.

"The driver must not have been onboard," Chuck mused – to himself, really, since there was nobody around to hear him. He jogged over to the bus, and climbed onboard.

With no noise except for the sound of the bus's engine, Chuck could hear the clacking of the signboard as it kept changing from "14 – Beverly Blvd" to "Civic Center" and back again. It was a little eerie.

"Okay, how does this work?" Chuck asked himself. He looked for a gearshift – there it was. Slowly, he maneuvered it into drive, and the bus began to crawl forward.

Chuck gently pressed on the gas pedal, and the bus moved forward a little more quickly. Not used to the size of the vehicle, Chuck took the turn out onto Santa Monica Boulevard VERY wide and sideswiped four cars.

"Sorry," he muttered – although, there was no reason to be sorry, was there?

He drove slowly down Santa Monica, usually pulling around cars, but having to occasionally plow through a few when they were blocking the road. When he reached Sepulveda Boulevard, however, he was treated to a rather disconcerting sight.

A Boeing 747, in the livery of United Airlines, had crashed on Sepulveda about a quarter mile north of Santa Monica. Oddly enough, though it was burning, it appeared to be rather intact. "It must have crashed when everybody onboard disappeared," Chuck said out loud.

As he drove past Sepulveda, he could feel the heat from the burning airplane. Reaching out for the door crank, he swung the door shut, blocking out most of the heat.

Nearly twenty minutes later, he finally reached Lincoln Boulevard and his apartment complex. Parking the bus in the middle of the street, he turned it off and headed toward his apartment.

There was one car in the parking lot – his Herder. Brushing past the Toyota Yaris, he headed up the steps to his apartment.

Unlocking the door, he headed directly into the Nerd Cave and opened up his laptop. He pulled up Google Maps, and it pulled up a map of his default location.

Chuck looked at the map – and froze. His eyes widened.

"That's not possible!"