A/N: Getting into the almost-M parts. I will NOT be covering details of the assault so quit bugging me about it.

APR
CIA Clinic
Langley, VA Aug 10

[Transcription of counseling session #16 – Agent Sarah Walker Bartowski]

"Good morning, Sarah. Any thoughts on the clip we saw yesterday?"

"Nothing more than we discussed yesterday. I dreamed of the attack last night but it wasn't nearly as painful or terrifying. I woke up and knew who I was and where I was. I didn't even worry that Chuck was lying beside me all bloody like before. I knew it was a dream. I guess that's progress, right?"

"Tell me, Sarah, when you were partnered with Bryce Larkin you were in an intimate relationship with him, weren't you?"

"Yes, but that was a long time ago, before I knew Chuck, well, we were still, I mean, look, I never intended to be compromised by an asset and Bryce was my partner until he went deep cover. I loved him but wasn't in love with him, can you understand? And then Chuck's damned unconscious seduction plan began chipping away at the walls, tearing down Fortress Sarah, and finally, finally I knew what I wanted. I knew who I wanted and it sure as hell wasn't a shallow, self-centered narcissist like Bryce Larkin. I wanted Chuck Bartowski."

"That's interesting, Sarah, but not what I was getting to. Did you ever experience this flashback or the dream when you were with him? I assume you slept in the same bed, had sex, and woke tangled up in each other just like you did with your husband. So why did you almost kill your husband but never injure Bryce."

"I never had the dream when I was with Bryce. I guess it's because I never had to, I mean it's, I didn't experience the trigger with Bryce. We were always immersed in the mission and I never worried about what was happening in the world outside of our mission. That was for normal people not agents."

"Normal people, Sarah? Are you 'normal people' now?"

"Sarah, what's wrong?"

"I – I – I guess I'm normal people now. I was waiting for my husband to get back from 'work', I was watching the news, going to go out to dinner, normal stuff, the stuff I'd always dreamed of but never thought I'd have."

"Then I saw the bastard who commanded the squad on the news. He was…he was the first and…and then he let the others have me. He said I was their 'reward'."

"I wasn't in 'agent mode', just 'normal'. Is that it? With Bryce I was always an agent but with Chuck I'm a woman with a husband? Is being in love what made me almost kill my husband?"

"Don't be silly, Sarah. Of course not. The clip you saw on the news was the trigger, don't you see? Once you accept what happened to you, begin to deal with it in 'normal' mode I doubt you'll ever experience another flashback. And if you do, I think it will have a definitely different outcome."

"Why? How can you say that with such certainty?"

"I just can. Call it years of experience, woman's intuition, but I'm right. Trust me, Sarah, I'm definitely right."

"Now, let's go back to an area we've only briefly touched on – justice, revenge, pay-backs. You've never expressed any desire for those actions. You were and still are, I remind you, an agent in the CIA. Didn't you ever think to use the Agency's resources to find these animals and bring them to justice? They raped you but they murdered 4 UN investigators. Did anything ever come of any investigation into their murders."

"Sarah, why are you laughing? It's not funny at all. You were raped, Sarah, repeatedly and four people from the UN were murdered and you're laughing? Please explain this."

"Don't you think I tried to find them? Don't you think I burned for revenge, for the pleasure of killing them? I did look. Every time I was sure I'd found them, their location and identity, the information disappeared or was wrong or was redacted. As for the UN investigation, it was just for the show, window dressing. No one cared about 5 people when thousands of bodies in mass graves were being investigated or newly discovered. It didn't matter enough to the powers that be."

"You said the information disappeared or had been redacted. What are you saying, Sarah? Are you saying that we, the CIA, actively blocked your investigation?"

"You said it, Dr. Foster, not me. I gave up after that. I got busy and my focus was elsewhere. I had deep cover missions in Western Europe and what happened was compartmentalized as I've already told you. I just never got around to dealing with it. Not until I almost killed Chuck."

"And now, Sarah? Do you still want revenge? Justice? Or doesn't it matter any longer?"

"Yes, I wanted revenge. Justice? There is no justice in this world, doctor, just varying levels of indifference. But that's behind me now. I have a future with a man I'm incredibly happy with and with whom I want to begin contributing to global warming."

"Um, global warming?"

"I want to have lots of hot, steamy sex with my husband and hopefully get pregnant. And if we don't get pregnant right away, then we'll just have hot, steamy sex and contribute to global warming. And believe me, Dr. Foster, it's going to get hot in Burbank when I finally get home, melt-the-glaciers-hot. I miss him, Dr. Foster, so much. How much longer?"

"I can't say, Sarah, it's up to you. It's always been up to you."

[End Session Transcription]

Casa Bartowski

Burbank, CA

August 12 1:00am

One tiny drop of blood, about the circumference of a pencil eraser, plopped onto the intel daily sheet he was reviewing. He was flashing on White Gardenias, Robert E. Lee's portrait, the Golden Gate Bridge and file after file of mission reports from Bosnia, Serbia and the Srebrenica enclave. God, what people do to other people in the name of 'The One True God'.

Another drop, larger this time, stained the sheet but he was oblivious to it. He'd prepared himself for the 'migraine-like' headache by taking two of the tiny white pills that gave almost instantaneous relief from the pain before beginning the review. It was the only way he could get through the dailies as well as do the daily search for Sarah's attackers. The dailies and any flashes were logged and reported to CIA – Langley. Any of the 'other' flashes were also detailed, but in another file entirely.

Another drop, then another. He knew when it was time to quit. The rest of his research would use more readily available sources, the internet. He wiped his nose and upper lip with a tissue and also wiped the daily intel sheet clean, well, almost. He figured Momma Casey would see the stain and be on him like stink on shit but he didn't care.

He pushed himself away from the kitchen table, his 'office', tidied up the dailies putting them in the burn bag for destruction by one of the backup singers. It saved him a trip to the Castle and gave Casey a warm secure feeling knowing that the secret documents were 'properly disposed of'.

He had found the remaining three of Sarah's attackers. Two were easy, readily accessible, and could be picked like ripe fruit off a tree. The third and final rapist was now a delegate to their equivalent of the US House of Representatives. Apparently the people of Greater Serbia had little concern for the recent trial for Crimes Against Humanity that had ended in a null verdict in The Hague.

It had been his face that had started this, the man in the news clipping. Radovan Zdravko was a dead man walking. Hopefully, his death would bring Sarah closure and they could go back to being just 'Chuck & Sarah' first, intersect and agent, last.

He sent an email to Dr. Foster telling her of the elimination of the first of the remaining four rapists. He attached a scanned copy of the 2004 photograph showing Sarah and the UN Team of investigators and the Serbian 'escort', two of whom now had a bright red 'X' over their faces.

He was bone tired and dizzy and he knew the backup singer, Carol, was his in-house babysitter for the night. Casey had insisted that someone be in the apartment at all times with Chuck since his 'bleeds' were becoming more and more of a frequent event. Chuck thought it was bull but Casey was insistent. "Chuck, it's either have someone in the apartment or you go into the hospital. Choose."

He flicked off the kitchen light and walked over to the couch and took her wedding portrait and just looked at it. She'd been the most beautiful bride anyone had ever seen. OK, he was biased, but it had to be true. She looked radiant, deliriously happy, and the photographer had captured her best smile. God, how he missed her.

Carol walked out into the living room and hesitated before continuing on into the kitchen. She'd ordered a pizza for them for dinner but he'd just picked at his. And now she was hungry and she knew damned well he was. She just wished she'd known he was awake. She'd have worn more than her robe, probably gotten dressed.

Finally she could take the silence no longer.

"Mr. Bartowski, you have to eat something. If this isn't to your liking, I can whip up an omelet or something for you instead. This isn't healthy. Whatever's eating at you will only end up hurting you instead. Don't you special assets have a handler or someone you normally talk to when you have problems? Maybe family, a girlfriend?"

He sighed, put Sarah's portrait up, got up and went to the refrigerator and pulled out two bottles of beer. He opened hers, handing it to her, smiling slightly at the shocked look of surprise.

"Go ahead, drink it. I know you drink beer because it's in your file. You're not really on duty, not really, and I don't like drinking alone. It isn't healthy." He smirked when he saw her cheeks color.

"So, Carol, how do you like the CIA so far? Live up to all your expectations? Really, I'm curious. What's your opinion of the defenders of the greater good so far? There's no surveillance here and I sure as hell am not going to call Art and rat you out." He took the pizza box from her, threw a few slices on a plate and put it into the microwave to nuke.

"It's not 'Carol', Mr. Bartowski, it's Gwen, Gwen Rivers. And so far it sucks. No offense, but babysitting is not what I signed up for. I was hoping for a foreign assignment, something with meat on it. This…this is not what I figured I'd be doing." She gave him a look that said 'screw you' in so many different ways he had to laugh and that pissed her off.

"It's not funny. I graduated high enough in my class at the Farm to have had a really good posting for a new Agent. Instead, I got you and … this place."

"Well, Carol, it's like this. I'm 'special' and being around me is likely to get you and the other three backup singers killed if Fulcrum ever decides to get its act together and come after me."

"In the meantime you and Bob & Ted & Alice are here to assist me, cover my ass and make sure when I finish tilting the windmills you can put Don Quixote back on his damned pony. You four are my Sancho Panza. You want foreign intrigue, I'll give it to you in spades. Tomorrow we're leaving for Belgrade. Be careful what you wish for, Carol."

The microwave dinged and he took two plates from the cupboard and the pizza from the microwave and put them on the table.

"You know, don't you, that I asked for all four of you after reviewing The Farm's training records. You all have talents I don't and together, if you ever play nice, you four will make an excellent addition to Team Bartowski. You especially, Carol. I like pissy women. They bring out the bad boy in me."

Her eyes started to widen and she thought back to the seduction classes she'd aced but hated. What should she do now?

"Don't worry, Gwen. Although you're incredibly attractive, you're safe."

"And for Christ's sake drop the "Mr. Bartowski", it's Chuck. Just Chuck."

"So who's the girl in the wedding portrait? Ex-wife, sister, who?"

"Sarah Walker. We've been married almost 6 months."

"Oh, shit. You're married to her? Where is she? Can I meet her? My God, I'm babysitting her husband! How cool is that?" She stopped when she saw how his eyes filled with unshed tears. Unconsciously she reached across the table and took his hand in hers.

"Oh, no. She'd dead, isn't she? That's what this whole thing is about. You're finding and killing whoever killed her. I'm so sorry, Mr. Ba – I mean, Chuck. None of us had any idea."

"She's not dead! She's not! She's…in a hospital and she's getting better and no one will keep us apart, not the NSA, the CIA, no one and they better not try."

Gwen drew back, flinching from the intensity of his words, the almost desperate tone. For the first time since beginning this assignment she was afraid for her own well-being.

"But you're close to the mark, Gwen. I will be killing a lot more people. Can you handle it?"

"Yeah, you can count on your backup singers, Chuck. Vancouver was ballsy. But why'd you get sick? You're not like, dying or anything are you?" She couldn't believe she was talking to the husband of THE Sarah Walker and he was treating her like…a person, a colleague.

"Three weeks ago I was, but not now. Now the puking, bleeds, headaches, they're just subtle reminders to stay focused and sharp. That and this old fart Med-Alert bracelet."

"Well, OK, then eat your damned pizza so I don't have to tell Major "Grunt-grunt" that you blew off dinner. He was quite specific in his instructions."

"Grunt-grunt? That's great-great. Grunt-grunt…" He was laughing, so Gwen took that as a good sign.

"Belgrade? As in Serbia? Really?"

"Yep. Going to go find an orchard and pick some rotten fruit."

Later, Dr. Gwendolyn Rivers, MD, sent a special email to Director Graham and to the head of the medical team monitoring the intersect.

"Subject is in reasonably good health and spirits despite the events of the day. After eliminating target in Vancouver, subject vomited while exiting the mission site and dry-swallowed two pills for 'migraine' symptoms upon entering the vehicle. His consumption of prescribed meds has not exceeded the threshold that would require intervention. Subject's access to intersect causes bleeding from nostrils but is not unduly excessive. Subject's appetite is poor but he is eating. On two occasions I have approached subject with intent to take blood pressure readings while asleep but subject awakened enough that I had to abort attempts. This evening I laced his pizza with a sleep aid and was able to take a reading [See attachment]. Please note that the medication appears to be stabilizing the fluctuations in BP but it's 'base' remains dangerously high. Cover is still secure. Why was I not briefed on subject's wife's status?"

CIA Clinic

Langley, VA Aug 12

[Transcription of counseling session #17 – Agent Sarah Walker Bartowski]

"Good morning, Sarah. First off, let me apologize for canceling yesterday's session but I had a patient in crisis and had to deal with an all day and all night session. But I received an interesting email and attachment from your husband. Are you sure you want to see it? The picture may bring back unpleasant memories."

"From Chuck? What did he say? Where is he? How is he?"

"He's on his way out of the country to attend a concert with Casey and his backup singers. I suppose he means the new team he's assembled. It's been the topic of discussion at the staff meetings for the past week now."

"A new team? But I thought I'd get to go back to him, be his handler and security again? Have I been replaced? Has he replaced me? Doesn't he trust me any longer?"

"We'll discuss that in a few minutes. Do you want to see the photograph?"

"Yes."

"My God, he's killed one of them. My Chuck who wouldn't even step on a bug but who'd shoo it out of the apartment. He's killed someone. But how did he know? I mean, the photo is old and those men must have dispersed all over the Balkans by now. They're war criminals with a price on their heads. And it's not because of us, it's because of the 700 murdered Bosniaks."

"I think being the intersect has something to do with it. After all, everything ever done by the CIA and NSA and the State Department's Intelligence Service as well as the DIA is in there in some form. It's like the Great Library of Alexandria in his head. Amazing."

"It's a curse on him. It's given him no joy, no happiness, no peace, just pain and suffering."

"Well, it gave him you, Sarah, didn't it? So it can't have been totally a curse for him."

"It's the reason I found him, but I've seen it cause him more grief and heartache than most people get in their entire lifetime. Look what I did to him. It never would have happened if that damned thing hadn't been forced into his head."

"So you're sorry you met him, fell in love and married him?"

"Oh, no, no. I meant – yes, I guess I'm sorry he was hurt as a result of our meeting but I'm not sorry at all that we're married. Never. I just wish it could have been more conventional, like meeting at a coffee shop or a blind date."

"Normal, again, Sarah?"

"Yeah. Normal. Is every time I have some monumental epiphany going to add to my time here? Our discussions just seem all over the map and I don't see us staying on any one subject long enough to resolve anything and then move on and conquer the next issue. Care to comment, doctor?"

"You'll leave here when you're able to leave, Sarah, when the demons have been purged and you're right-minded again. It's all up to you. Now speaking of epiphanies, we touched on one the other day that I'd like to discuss. Your wedding. I take it you did things quietly, perhaps sneaking away? It's what an agent protecting a valuable asset would want to do, I would think."

"Well, you don't know my husband very well. There we were, sitting around the living room discussing wedding plans and options, the four of us, Chuck, Ellie, Devon and I, well, the three of us coming up with all these quickie ideas when Chuck just said 'NO'. Just quietly almost whispered 'no'. Well, you could have heard a pin drop, even on the carpeted floor."

"He didn't want to get married? Objected to the secrecy? What?"

"He objected to running off to Vegas, secrecy, a plain dress wedding in front of a judge, all the things that we'd discussed with the idea of 'plain and quick'. He said he wanted me in a white dress and veil, in a church with wedding portraits, even if it was just going to be the four of us in attendance. He said he wanted me in white, and wanted me to have my 'little girl's wedding'. It was the sweetest thing and made both Ellie and I cry. He was adamant and he got his way."

"So, I don't see you wearing a ring. Was that a sacrifice to the CIA's need for secrecy?"

"No. I – I think your people took them when I arrived. My watch, wedding ring, my engagement ring. I think your people have them, at least I hope so. I really don't remember all that much of my first few hours here, or the first day or so really."

"Not surprising. You were drugged up pretty good for the flight here. Sarah, you were hysterical when you saw your husband in ICU. You wouldn't stop screaming that you'd killed your husband, that the damned CIA had killed your husband. You were sedated and brought here. You were 'uncooperative' during the initial hours after your admittance, demanding that we release your husband and let you see him."

"Sounds like I won't miss remembering any of that. But what of my rings? The watch isn't important. Can you find out what happened to my rings? Please?"

"You'll find your sister-in-law packed a bag for you and it's been put in your quarters, your rings and watch are in the suitcase. Lose the hospital gown, Sarah, and get dressed. While you're still a resident patient here, there's no danger of you running off and killing yourself, so lose the gown and feel free to use the cafeteria. You're on limited restrictions for now. You're making great progress. I'll talk with you tomorrow."

[End transcription – Session #17]

A/N: Taking tomorrow off and getting another opinion... screw 'em. I'm the one who has the black wiggly things floating around and the flashes around the edges. Was OK when I was drinking but now it's annoying. Wednesday for sure.

APR