~ Ground Zero ~
Thursday, August 30, 2012
With a long, lazy stretch, Sarah opens her eyes, her body still relaxed and her mood … peacefully euphoric, thanks to Chuck's massage and a wonderful night's sleep. She takes in her new surroundings. It's different waking up here. Really quiet. She settles back into her pillow observing the different angle of morning light coming through the window and the view of blue sky instead of the courtyard. Nice. She smiles, just thinking about where she is. Outside that window is a fenced back yard, just like she always imagined. Around front, there's a red door and a white picket fence, just like she always imagined. Inside is a cozy, simple life and a real home, with a man who loves her, as she loves him, more than she could've ever imagined.
Come to think of it, that man owes her the second half of her massage. Her sense of euphoria is redirected toward finishing last night's romantic evening.
Opening Night
As they head out the door for Clan Bartowski's premiere evening at Carmichael's Spy Café, Devon's phone rings. "Hi mom..." Ellie rolls her eyes. "What a surprise ..." They're here he mouths. "No. No, I didn't know there was an AMA convention in town … Yeah, what a coincidence." Ellie rolls her eyes. Again. "Well, we sort of have special plans tonight … last night, huh? Hang on." He puts the phone to his chest. "They're here and want to meet for dinner. What do I tell them?"
Chuck looks at Ellie and does what Bartowskis do: "Tell them you can't miss this dinner and ask them to meet us at the old Orange Orange. I know Morgan won't mind, and by now the proverbial spy cat is out of the bag anyway … and running all over the country."
It's settled. Woody and Honey, will join the Bartowski clan for dinner. "Babe, don't worry. It'll be fine." Devon tries to convince Ellie.
"Yeah, Ellie, I'm sure it will be okay. And if worst comes to worst, Chuck always carries a tranque pistol," Sarah says the last part in collusive tones. As Ellie laughs, Devon's smile fades. He raises an eyebrow, and snaps his head in Chuck's direction.
—^v^—
Morgan opens the doors for Clan Bartowski, and perhaps the most diverse combination of parents, ever gathered in such a small group of people. Except for Molly and Clara, everyone related to TeamB is there, even Big Mike and Bolonia. As they enter the familiar haunt, their expressions range from appreciation to pleasant surprise to incredulity to outright shock. The small space has been completely redone to look like a European sidewalk café. The back wall looks like the exterior of a café, complete with awnings. The door of the faux café leads downstairs to the restaurant part of Carmichael's. The fast food counter is gone, replaced by more tables against a mural of a narrow cobblestone street, and in the center of the front window is a small fountain, surrounded by flowers. "Wow, Morgan. This is great," Ellie speaks for everyone.
Morgan steps up on a chair. "Welcome, everybody, to Carmichael's Spy Café, formerly the Orange Orange, formerly the Wienerliscious, both part of a CIA/NSA cover for one of the country's most successful Black Ops Teams. The restaurant is a reminder of those years and a tribute to the spies and the work that was done here."
Sarah chuckles to herself at Big Mike, shaking his head and muttering, "Chuck Bartowski, a spy. I still don't believe it. It does explain my fish, though."
Morgan leads them down into the former Castle, showing off the hand scanner that Chuck created using an ordinary office scanner and his modified finger print app. To gain entrance to the restaurant, diners register their palm prints for the evening, or permanently if they prefer, with a favorite spy handle. Morgan demonstrates, placing his palm on the scanner. The glass door slides open and a computerized female voice says, "Welcome, Agent Cobra. The Director is expecting you."
"Dude, that's awesome!" Devon registers his palm print as Six Pack, and convinces Ellie to register as Hot Mama. Ellie complies with much eye rolling. Sarah explains as much as she can to Emma, and Chuck picks up where Sarah's memory leaves off. Emma and Sarah laugh together at the escapades of Hot Mama and Six Pack.
As Chuck and Sarah wander over to talk to Casey and Gertrude, Mary approaches Emma and introduces herself, "You must be Emma. I'm Mary, Chuck's mom."
Emma shakes Mary's hand. "It's nice to meet you, Mary."
"And you," Mary says as the two woman watch their children. "You should be very proud of her, you know. She's one of the strongest, most amazing women I've ever known."
"She is, isn't she? I'm very impressed with your son, too." Emma says in reply.
"They're good for each other," Mary says thoughtfully.
"Which makes them good for us," Emma says, and the two women share a smile.
The restaurant retains much of the original look of Castle. The armory is still in place, enclosed in glass. Except, of course, the guns are fake. Flat screens surround the large central area, with dining tables where the work stations once stood. The holding cells and interrogation rooms, have been converted into dining areas of various sizes. Some still look like holding cells, complete with sliding glass doors and flat screens for showing the party's spy movie of choice. The larger rooms are decorated to look like intimate dining areas overlooking international cities.
The hallway is lined with mock redacted mission reports recapping some of TeamB's accomplishments.
Behind a soundproof glass wall is a room with arcade and video games. Rush music plays in that room, and Missile Command occupies the most prominent location, with posters on either side depicting the Carmichael/Tom Sawyer legend.
The flat screens in the central area run loops of clips pulled from security footage that captured some of TeamB's best exploits: One video shows all the recent news footage. Another shows what they nicknamed the vertigo video: Chuck's head-first plunge off the top of a building, Casey's spectacular save, and Sarah's awesome battle with the imposing Mr Colt; Casey and Chuck's fall from the hotel balcony into the swimming pool, Sarah and Casey parachuting off a building, and other aerial adventures from the Sasha Banachek case and the Tyler Martin case. A third video loops the amusing heist of a museum mask, the nerve-wracking theft of a tiger's collar, and exterior and interior security footage from an out-of-the-way Swiss café. The last video runs footage of a runway fight during fashion week in Milan, a warehouse ambush with Sarah's awesome takedown of fifteen armed men, and a YouTube video of a pit fight in Thailand.
All the non-spies in the room stare at the screens wide-eyed and slack-jawed, their stunned silence broken from time to time with laughter, gasps, or the occasional expletive or comment. Devon is the most vocal with a running commentary of the degrees of awesomeness or insanity of each moment. Ellie and Emma sit next to each other, vacillating between pride and trauma. Woody and Honey wear looks of shock and awe: Honey, the shock and Woody, the awe. Big Mike just shakes his head, "So that's what happened to that banner."
The evening is a huge hit. Everyone wishes Morgan and Carmichael's every success, and they all leave raving about the décor, the entertainment, and the wonderful international cuisine.
Moving Day
Friday morning, all able bodied helpers report for duty at Casa Bartowski, and the parade of boxes begins. Sarah pauses to watch Mary and Gertrude direct the loading of the truck and boss Morgan here and there with the boxes. Sarah snickers. That should be interesting. The furniture follows the boxes, and by noon the truck is loaded and ready to roll.
The youngest members of the team need a break, so the grandmas call it a day. Emma and Molly promise to return on Saturday, and Mary takes a tuckered Clara for a weekend with Grandma.
The Bartowski caravan makes it to its destination, and the parade reverses itself. The furniture enters its new home; then boxes are hauled to their designated rooms.
After the furniture is more or less in place and the bare essentials have been dug out of various boxes, Sarah and Ellie dig for Sarah's recipe book. In the end, Ellie insists on Sizzling Shrimp for the first family dinner in Nueva Casa Bartowski.
—^v^—
Finally, it's just Chuck and Sarah and Ellie and Devon, crashed in the living room with after dinner coffee and a pile of fortune cookies. Devon is fading fast.
Ellie pins Chuck with a raised eyebrow. "Okay, Little Brother, you want to tell me about the Intersect, that evidently wasn't destroyed with Quinn?"
"Well, yeah, okay. There's not that much to tell. It's pretty much like we told everyone, except for the little detail that Quinn was actually killed before he got the chance to put on the glasses. With Quinn dead, the only information to disarm the bomb was in the Intersect, so I uploaded it."
"He had to, Ellie," Sarah continues, "to save Morgan and Casey and Beckman and all those people ... and us."
"I get it, Chuck, I do. With great power comes great responsibility." Ellie smiles at them.
"Ooo, a Peter Parker quote, Sis. I'm impressed."
"Yeah." Ellie smiles at him. "Or Voltaire or Churchill."
"Or them." Chuck grins and slaps his palm to his forehead.
Sarah laughs at the sibling banter and rolls her eyes for Ellie's benefit.
"So, does it feel any different, give you headaches, any problems?" Ellie slips into doctor/Intersect mode.
"No. In fact, I wanted to ask you about that. It feels smoother, faster, more … I don't know … organic?" Chuck explains.
"Also," Sarah adds, "Chuck seems to retain more. When I train him in a new fighting skill, he flashes on it, and then it's like he actually learns it. The same with information, if he reads it, he knows it."
Ellie smiles. "Then the Intersect you uploaded contains all my changes, which make the Intersect integrate more smoothly with the brain ... to be the teaching tool Dad created it to be. The Intersect is like a little brain, inside your brain. But because the first generations were designed by an engineer and not a neurologist, it worked more like a computer than a brain, and that created compatibility issues."
"That's why Dad gave it to you."
Ellie smiles. "Yeah, I guess so. Anyway, the Intersect uploads itself into its own self-contained area of the brain. The human brain consolidates, or stores information differently than a computer. When the human brain retrieves information or memories, it re-consolidates them, or rewrites them to both the original location and backup locations. Before when you flashed, the Intersect retrieved information from its database, and when it tried to reconsolidate or rewrite it to your brain, it put dangerous levels of stress on your brain."
"Because it wasn't compatible. Like my brain was constantly transcoding or reformatting data."
"Yeah. That's a workable analogy. As far as reconsolidating skills to your brain, it didn't work at all, which is why you had to flash every time you needed to use a skill, like karate. So, I reprogrammed the Intersect to store information and skills the same way your brain does. My changes made the Intersect work not only with the brain but like the brain. Now, when information or a particular skill is retrieved from the Intersect, it is seamlessly written to the proper areas of your brain. No transcoding necessary. That's why you remember new skills, without having to flash every time. Because they're stored in your brain and not just in the Intersect. Of course, physical training can only improve your body's ability to execute your brain's instructions." Ellie smiles at Sarah and finishes her coffee.
"Wow. I think I actually understood that," Sarah says with a look of amazement.
"So, El, on the yacht, the Intersect, or my brain—after a while I couldn't tell which—ran finger prints. Does my brain know how to do that now?"
"You should have seen it, Ellie, it was amazing." Sarah beams with pride.
"That's incredible." Ellie says. "Well, I don't know about running it against a database, without the help of the Intersect, but comparing two fingerprints visually, yes, and probably with computer-like accuracy. As for absorbing information, the Intersect is just boosting your brains innate ability to do that. According to everything we know, from Professor Fleming and your first upload, your brain is exceptional at absorbing, processing, and retaining information. However, the Intersect will make all your brain functions more efficient."
"Like a multi-core processor." Chuck teases.
"I suppose you could put it like that."
"What about the governor?" Sarah asks. "Would it need to be different?"
"Oh, Sarah, good question." Chuck smiles and bumps her shoulder.
"If it was designed to work with the 2.0, it won't work with this one," Ellie says. "You probably don't need it. In fact, the governor may even interfere. I say go without it, and see what happens."
Sarah instantly feels better about the Intersect, at least with regards to its effect on Chuck's health.
Ellie nudges Devon. "Devon, Honey. Wake up."
Devon dry washes his face and sits up. "Yeah, Bro, what were you thinking uploading the Intersect again?"
The other three smile, holding in their laughter, and Devon says, "Did I miss something?"
"Ellie, why don't you take Captain Awesome, here, to bed. Sarah and I are going to turn in, too."
"See you in the morning, and thank you so much for all your help." Sarah hugs Ellie and Devon.
Chuck hugs his sister and fist bumps Devon. "Night, Sis. It's great to have you here. ... You, too, Captain."
Unboxing Day
A quick breakfast of yogurt, fruit, and cereal fuels the workers for Unboxing Day, as Sarah dubbed it.
Casey opted out of unboxing, because there were no guns to unpack, but he said he'd be back Sunday for big screen sports and Ellie's pot roast dinner.
Morgan and Devon unpack the living room boxes, and assist—meaning watch—Chuck set up the entertainment center/home theatre. First things first. Labor Day weekend sports start tomorrow.
While Emma and Molly set up the linen closet, Ellie and Sarah organize the kitchen. Ellie finishes putting away the dishes and the glasses and watches her sister-in-law finish off her last box of pots and pans. "Sarah, I've wanted to ask you about your memories, are any more of them returning ... other than the big ones you told me about before I left?"
"Yes, not spontaneously so much, but when Chuck tells me a story I often remember things as he tells them."
"Like a movie you only remember as it goes along?"
"Yeah. How did you know?"
"I've had other patients tell me the same thing. It's a start."
"I know." Sarah sighs.
"Don't be discouraged, Sarah. You're recovery so far is nothing short of remarkable." Sarah nods. "But how do you feel about it?"
Emma knocks on the door frame. "Sorry, I don't mean to interrupt," she says apologetically, "but Molly is testing a video game with Morgan, and I wanted to get some water. I'll just grab a bottle and go keep an eye on her."
"Help yourself to anything in the fridge, Mom, and you can stay, if you want. Ellie and I were just talking about my continuing memory saga." Sarah opens the fridge for her mom and continues talking to Ellie, "Sometimes I think how nice it would be to just remember things, you know, instead of always having to ask Chuck." Ellie nods. "But Chuck is endlessly patient explaining things and great with story time."
"Yeah, he's pretty wonderful, even if he is my brother." Ellie smiles.
"That he is." Sarah closes the fridge. "I'm happy, Ellie. Really happy. I don't know exactly how it compares with the way things were before. I just know I love Chuck more than I ever thought I could love someone, and I love my life with him. I've remembered the really important things, and if that's all I ever get back of my old life, then that's okay." Ellie and Sarah join Emma at the table. "I still think of this as my new life and pre-Quinn as my old life, if that makes sense."
"Oh, it absolutely does," Ellie responds. "Your life was catastrophically interrupted, so I wouldn't expect your new life to be a simple continuation of your old one. It's more like a rebirth of the essence of your old life: what makes you you, who you became with Chuck, the love and connection you two have. As other memories return, more of your old life will be absorbed into the new."
"I guess I hadn't thought of it like that."
"I've been watching you and Chuck for the last several days. No surprise there, huh?" Sarah chuckles and shakes her head. Emma smiles, watching the two younger women. "You know what I see?"
"No." Sarah glances away, then looks at Ellie and goes very still.
"I see the same woman I watched fall in love with my brother. I see the same love. And I see a beautiful marriage. Not something patched up and limping along, but vibrant and healthy and ... beautiful. Your relationship has new depth and strength, Sarah, albeit with a slightly different tenor. And it's ... well, stunning, especially for those of us who know what happened."
Emma's eyes shine with tears. Sarah looks down, studying her glass of water, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Thank you, Ellie."
"Any time, Sarah. Now, I bet the natives are hungry. What are we feeding them?"
"Oh," Emma speaks up, "Morgan said Alex was bringing lunch,"
"Right, and all the groceries for the weekend," Sarah adds.
—^v^—
"Just a liiittle bit that way." Molly holds her hands two inches apart, then points to her left.
"Okay. You're sure?" Sarah smiles at her.
"I'm sure." Molly says. Behind Molly, Emma nods her agreement.
Sarah marks the spot with her finger, hands her mom the picture, pulls the nail from her pocket, and puts it where her finger was. She takes the hammer from Molly, taps the nail into place, takes the picture from her mom and hangs it on the nail. "That's the last one. We are really good at this. In one afternoon, we've set out the photos and hung most of the paintings and pictures. I think I'm ready for some lemonade. How about you, Molly?" Sarah looks at her sister.
"Me, too." Molly flops down on the bed. "This is hard work." Emma and Sarah laugh.
"Then lets go."
—^V^—
Molly guzzles her lemonade and runs off to play soccer in the back yard, while Sarah and Emma watch her from the back deck.
"She's happy, isn't she?" Sarah looks at Emma.
"Very, Honey. Why?"
"I want her to be happy. Thank you … for giving her all the things you wanted to give me."
"It's my pleasure. She's a gift. But you're as much a part of that as I am." Emma watches Molly dribble the ball and kick it into the goal Chuck set up for her. "I don't know if you realize what a wonderful thing you did." She turns back to look at Sarah. "And how proud I am of you for doing it."
"I'm just glad you're both safe, Mom." Sarah pauses for a beat. … "And that we can see each other again."
"Mm, me too." Emma drains the last of her lemonade. "You know, I really like Chuck ... and Ellie and the whole extended family. I'm so happy for you." She bumps Sarah's shoulder.
"Thanks Mom. … And it's a good thing you like them, because you do realize, don't you, that you and Molly have been adopted into the Bartowski clan?"
Emma laughs and raises her glass. "Well, I'm honored."
Sarah nods with a small smile and raises her glass. "To family."
Sunday Morning
Ground Zero
Chuck and Sarah sit on their back deck, feet propped up, enjoying their coffee during the quiet hour before everyone else gets up. Morgan and Alex slept over, so soon the Bartowski house will be pulsing with activity. Coffee finished, Sarah kisses Chuck and pushes him toward the other end of the deck to preflight the Beastmaster for its Labor Day maiden voyage. She goes inside to cut up fruit and chop omelet ingredients.
Having sliced and diced whatever she could find, she goes to clean up the remnants of last night's snacks: empty paper plates, cups, napkins; you would think a group of adults could find their way to the trash can. She kneels down to pick up a few wayward pretzels. When she looks up and sees Chuck watching her through the back door window, the memory hits her like a freight train:
~^~^~
Chuck getting farther and farther away. A warehouse. "I'm not working for you." Quinn. "Until I get what I want, you're my soldier." Flash cards. Memories of Chuck. Excruciating pain. Her head about to explode.
~^~^~
She clutches her head and collapses, with a cry of pain.
—^v^—
Someone gently strokes her forehead and places something cool on it. What happened? Pain ... feels better now … The warehouse ... where am I? the hotel? ... Quinn. She hears a soothing voice, "It's okay, Sarah. I'm here." Not Quinn. The soothing voice holds her hand in both of his. "I love you, Baby." He kisses her fingers, one by one. Chuck?
She opens her eyes and stares into Chuck's face, full of love and concern. Her face crumples, and the tears begin to fall. She launches herself into his arms and holds on as if her life depends on it. Because it does. Not her physical life, but her inner life—who she is—depends on Chuck in so many ways. He holds her tight, gently rocking, whispering love and comfort. She sobs: letting out the anguish, soaking in his comfort; letting go of terror, holding on to love; holding on to Chuck, never letting go. He rubs her back and kisses her neck, holds her close, folding her into himself, his tears falling with hers.
Finally her tears stop, and her body begins to relax. Chuck wipes her tears with his cool handkerchief, and she wipes his with her hand. He reaches for the glass of water on the coffee table. "Here, Sarah, drink some water, Baby."
She drinks most of it, thirstier than she realized. "Thank you." Her voice is still rusty.
"Come on." Chuck settles them back on the couch. Sarah nestles against him. "Better?"
"Mm-hmm."
Ellie walks in and sits on the coffee table, speaking softly, "Sarah, how are you feeling? Physically, I mean. It looked like you were in a lot of pain before you passed out. Do you have a headache?"
"Um, not really. Maybe just a dull ache, but nothing more."
"Good. Here, these should help." Ellie hands Sarah two pills and stands up.
Sarah swallows the pills with the rest of the water, then looks at Ellie. "Thank you. Where is everybody?"
"They went out for breakfast and to pick up some things we need for the cookout tomorrow."
Convincing cover story for clearing everyone out to give us some space. Ellie is a much better spy than Devon. Sarah looks up at her sister-in-law. "Thank you, Ellie. I'm sorry I, um …"
"Babe, it's okay." Chuck gives her hand a squeeze.
"Sarah you have nothing to be sorry for. We were just worried about you," Ellie assures her and turns to leave.
"Ellie, ah, you can stay. You should hear this, and I don't need to tell it twice." Sarah looks at Chuck. "It was a memory. Quinn. I remembered what he did to me."
Ellie sits down, and Sarah tells them what happened. "I was on the floor picking up pretzels. When I looked up and saw Chuck looking at me through the back door, it triggered a memory, a really bad one." She looks at Chuck and sees by his expression that he knows exactly which memory. "We were on the bullet train. Quinn tranqued me, and the cars began to separate, and you were looking at me through the door of your car. I was trying to get to you, but I couldn't, and you kept getting farther and farther away." Ellie gives her a sympathetic nod. Everyone knows this part of the story, but nobody knows what happened after that, until she woke up in the hotel room with no memories.
Sarah fills in the blanks. She tells them about waking up in the dark warehouse, save a few shafts of sunlight behind her and a lone bulb casting a small circle of light on the spot where she was tied to a metal chair. "Quinn told me he was going to remove the rotten Intersect with a suppression device and then send me on a mission to get the pristine version. I told him 'I'm not working for you,' and he said, 'You are; until I get what I want, you're my soldier.'"
She tells them she activated her emergency beacon. She looks at Chuck, puts her hand in his. "Quinn had these cards with holographic patterns. He called them flash cards, stimulants, and used them to force me to flash. The first flash contained an image of our wedding, and I realized what he was doing. He was making me forget you."—Tears slide down her cheeks.—"I fought him, Chuck. I tried so hard to hold on to you ... not to forget you, but he was taking you from me, memory by memory." Chuck draws her close, kisses her forehead, his face streaked with tears. Ellie bites her lip and wipes her tears before they can fall.
"He would show me an image, and a flash would start and the pain, and I couldn't stop flashing. Images, memories of you were there, and then they were just ... gone. At first, I was aware of vanishing memories and pain. Then there was only pain: mind-searing pain. Then … nothing."
They sit in silence. Ellie wipes her tears and puts her hand on Sarah's knee. "You guys need a few minutes. I know I do. We can talk more after a while, or whenever you're ready."
"Thank you, Ellie."
"Thanks, Sis."
Chuck takes Sarah's face in his hands, holding her gaze and brushing the tears away with his thumbs. He drops soft kisses on her forehead and under both eyes. She reaches behind his head and pulls him in for a lingering kiss, meant to reassure rather than arouse. She pulls away and locks eyes with him. "Chuck, I'm okay, or I will be. It was a terrifying memory, but it's over. All of it. And we won. Quinn can never hurt us again."
—^v^—
Chuck and Sarah find Ellie in the kitchen, standing at the sink, looking out the window at the big back yard. Sarah puts a hand on her shoulder. "Ellie, are you okay?"
Ellie turns and smiles at her sister-in-law. "I think that's my question."
"I'll be fine. Honest." Sarah smiles at her sister-in-law. "I am a little hungry, though."
"I just made some chicken salad. How does that sound?"
"It sounds kind of wonderful, actually."
They sit at the table on the back deck. Ellie looks at Sarah over her glass of peach tea. "Sarah I think this could actually be a good thing, remembering ground zero, so to speak."
Chuck furrows his brow, but Sarah perks up. "What do you mean?"
"I think it may help your brain … umm … rewire itself. Or as Chuck would say, reboot."
"Okay. How? And remember I'm not a neurologist." Sarah quirks a teasing eyebrow at Ellie.
"Well, remember I said my latest version of the Intersect integrated with the brain? That's something that the buggy Intersect did, too, but in the wrong way and with disastrous results, whether by accident or design, I don't know."
Chuck and Sarah nod.
"The bad Intersect's programming got some wires crossed, so to speak. In the bad Intersect, when a flash was triggered, information was retrieved from the Intersect. Then, the crossed wiring caused it to grab related memories from the brain. If there were no related memories, it grabbed random memories, like in Morgan's case. Also because of the faulty wiring, it didn't, or couldn't, reconsolidate/rewrite the memory. Therefore, the brain's original memory was lost. The backups were still there, but the brain had temporarily lost the neural path to find them." Ellie pauses.
Sarah nods for her to continue.
"So far, so good." Chuck nods.
"I've had a theory, but until Sarah described what Quinn did, that's all it was. Now I'm more certain what I think happened: Quinn used the bad Intersect as a portal into Sarah's brain and the faulty wiring as a way of extracting specific memories. Chuck you said Quinn said he had studied the Intersect, and Sarah you said he showed you a clip from your own video log and handed you Chuck's file. So he searched those sources, and maybe others, for information related to Chuck and your last five years that would probably be in the Intersect. Then he coded that information into the holographic flash cards."
"Like creating QR codes?" Sarah asked.
"Right, but more complex and Intersect specific, and normally completely harmless, if not for the buggy wiring. The cards triggered a flash on Chuck-specific information in the Intersect, and the faulty wiring pulled related information from other areas of your brain. As you kept flashing, it was like unraveling a sweater. One memory pulled another and another and another. Then because the defective Intersect prevented your brain from rewriting the information, your original memories were lost. Your brain didn't know where to find the backups, until sensory or emotional triggers helped it over time."
"Wow, Sis, that really makes sense."
Sarah nods. "Yeah, it does."
"Sarah, when you had those nightmares that first night, they all dredged up your biggest fear: losing Chuck. Even though, at the time, you had forgotten that losing Chuck was your biggest fear." Ellie smiles at Sarah.
Sarah crinkles her brow. "So my brain was trying to get back to ground zero?"
"Yes, I think so ... through your fear. But, for obvious reasons, part of your brain didn't want to remember ground zero at all."
"But now that I have, you think it will help my brain ... find its backups?"
"No guarantees, but maybe."
Sarah nods, lost in thought.
"Now, I think I may go run an errand or two," Ellie says, clearing the table.
"Don't go on our account, Ellie. Chuck and I are going upstairs for our Sunday afternoon nap." Sarah looks at Chuck, who raises his eyebrows in response. "So, you can have the house to yourself for a while. I'm sure you could use the down time."
"Well, if you're sure."
"We're sure, right Chuck?"
"Yeah, El, make yourself at home."
Chuck follows Sarah up the stairs to their bedroom. "Okay, Sarah. We don't usually take a Sunday afternoon nap. Are you sure you're feeling okay? No headache?"
"I'm okay, Chuck. Really. No headache. I just need some alone time with you. Time to be close. Time to heal."
Chuck pulls her close. "He didn't take me away, Sarah. I'm right here, where I'll always be."
They close the door on the rest of the world and spend the afternoon healing: washing away the sense of violation with tender intimacy and replacing it with love.
—^v^—
Sarah comes into the kitchen to help Ellie with dinner. "Hey, Ellie, what can I do to help?"
"Ahh." Ellie jumps. "Sarah, you startled me."
"Sorry."
"Are you feeling better?"
"Much. Pretty great, in fact. Thank you. How about you? Did you have a quiet afternoon."
"I'm glad you're feeling better." Ellie hands Sarah a bag of carrots. "And yes, it was wonderful. I can't remember the last time I've had such a peaceful afternoon. ... Would you mind doing the salad?"
"I can do that. But someday I want you to teach me the secret of your pot roast."
"Deal."
The highlight of everybody's day is Ellie's pot roast dinner. The pre-dinner routine is in full swing. While Casey gets an extra chair, and Mary puts Clara in her high chair, Alex puts ice in the glasses, Morgan pours the drinks, and Sarah sets her salad on the table. Ellie brings the pot roast, which Morgan takes from her with all due reverence. "Oh, Ellie, how I have missed your pot roast. It's my favorite."
"Yes, Morgan, we know." Chuck teases, setting some side dishes on the table.
Ellie hands Devon the carving knife. "And I believe this was what I fixed the first time I met Sarah."
"Indeed," Devon confirms.
"Sorry, Ellie, I didn't bring a chocolate soufflé this time," Sarah jokes.
Everybody stops and looks at Sarah. It's been a long time since she's entered into casual family banter, something she had come to enjoy.
"Sorry, is that not what happened? It just popped into my head."
"No, Babe, that's exactly what happened," Chuck assures her.
"And you pulled the table cloth out from under all the stuff on the table ... and murdered my soufflé." She pins him with a mock glare.
"Yeah, sorry about that." He teases back.
"Then Zarnow kidnapped me, and you rescued me and flew a helicopter ... I went to Bryce's funeral and fixed … corn dogs." Sarah's smiles, quite pleased with herself.
"Honey, that's great. You put all those memories together with no prompting." Chuck bumps her shoulder with his. Ellie gives them a knowing smile.
Sarah shares a look with Ellie, before taking charge of dinner. "Okay, everybody pass your plates this way for Ellie's pot roast. Chuck, since Devon carved, would you serve the plates?"
Sarah had decided that everyone deserves to know what happened earlier, that they deserve closure from all that's happened, just like she does. Over dinner she gives everyone a short—more clinical, less emotional—version of her earlier collapse and her memory of ground zero. "Ellie has a detailed theory as to what happened neurologically, but basically, Quinn used coded flash cards to make me specifically forget Chuck and my last five years. It was a traumatic memory, and my brain remembered the pain from all the flashing, which is why I collapsed." Solemn faces register understanding and sympathy, especially Morgan's. "But," Sarah continues, "now that it's over, it's like the other shoe has finally dropped. I no longer have to wonder what Quinn did to me … or fear the memory of it. Quinn's ghost is gone, for all of us." She raises her glass. "So, here's to a Quinn-free future." Looks of concern morph into smiles, and glasses are raised to the future. "And," Sarah adds, "Ellie thinks that maybe the memory of ground zero will help my brain recover some of its backups." Sarah smiles.
Smiles morph to looks of confusion.
Morgan is the first to speak, "Well, whatever that means, I'm all for it. And good riddance to Quinn's ghost." He eyes the plate of roast. "Now, could I have a little more of that pot roast, please?"
"Morgan!" Alex chides.
"What? I'm embracing the future … which starts with seconds on pot roast."
Everybody laughs, and Sarah smiles at her friend, "Pass me your plate, Morgan."
Sir (John)
Sarah creeps downstairs early to enjoy a little bit of quiet before the Labor Day festivities begin. She measures coffee into the filter and pours water into the reservoir and ... voilà. The dark brew drips into the carafe. Black gold. Liquid energy. This is no mere coffee maker. It's a caffeine distribution center … CDC. Her foggy morning humor is interrupted by the doorbell.
She opens the door and smiles. "Abby. What a nice surprise. Come on in."
"I'm sorry for the early hour, Sarah, but Dave and I are going to Seattle for a couple of weeks."
"No problem. I just made coffee. You want some."
"Oh, you know I never turn down a cup of coffee, but I really can't stay long." Abby walks in, but she is not alone. Sarah looks down. "Wow, this little fellow has really grown." Sarah squats down, and her heart melts all over again.
"If you pat your knees he'll put his paws on them. Otherwise he's good about not jumping up."
Sarah pats her knees. "Come on." The puppy jumps up, a wriggling mass of fur, and puts his paws on Sarah's knee. Her hands roam his back and rub behind his ears and under his chin. He strains his little nose toward her face. She juts out her chin, and he gives it a timid lick. "Abby, he's adorable." She remembers the day he first captured her heart.
=—=—=
It was their first case, after Chuck was shot. Thanks to the news coverage, Carmichael Industries had a long list of clients clamoring for their services. The Sandersens were friends of Ellie and Devon. Plus, the job was low key, guaranteed safe and non-strenuous for someone who had been recently shot. Chuck and Sarah delivered their final report to their home, a small sheep ranch near Carmel. They had hired CI to upgrade the security of their Forbes top 100 investment firm in San Francisco. The ranch was more hobby than business and provided a much needed escape from corporate pressures and the pace of the city.
While Chuck went over the report with Dave, Abigail—Abby—gave Sarah a tour of the ranch. Sarah could easily see why they loved it there: the tranquil pastoral setting with gorgeous views of both the mountains and the ocean.
Abby is a tall, striking woman, with auburn hair and honey-brown eyes. Though she moves with ease among financial moguls and corporate magnates, she is much more at home in jeans and boots, on their ranch. She and Sarah hit it off instantly. At the end of the tour, Abby showed Sarah a litter of puppies, Australian Shepherds, and explained how they had gotten involved in rescuing Aussies. Abby had fallen in love with the breed, and this had become her passion. Some of the dogs they train to work on the ranch. Others they give to good homes. The puppies were four weeks old, and Sarah had never seen anything cuter in her life. She mentioned in passing that Chuck had talked about wanting a dog. They sat cross-legged on the floor, while Abby told her about the litter. One of the pups singled Sarah out to shower with puppy affection. He wobbled over to her and crawled all over her lap. Sarah smiled when he nosed his way under her hand for petting and laughed when he burrowed his cold nose into her neck. It was instant love for both canine and spy.
=—=—=
"I'm glad you think so."—Abby accepts a mug of coffee.—"Dave and I want to give him to you and Chuck. Our thanks for tightening our security and plugging the hole in our firewall."
Sarah's eyes widen. "Really?" A smile spreads on her face.
"Yep. He's all yours. If you want him."
"Of course, we want you." She picks up the new addition to the Bartowski family who climbs his way to her neck. "Chuck will be thrilled."
"What will Chuck be thrilled about?" The object of her thoughts pads into the kitchen. "Hi, Abby." Sarah turns smiling from ear to ear. Chuck's face softens. Then he notices her new fur collar. "And who is this?"
"This is … does he have a name?" she asks Abby.
"No. That's your job." Her friend smiles.
She looks back at Chuck. "our new dog. … Surprise."
"Wow. Our dog? I don't know what to say"—he looks at Sarah's face —"except thank you. I've always loved dogs, and this one is obviously already very attached to my wife." Chuck pets the dog who is quite happily attached to his wife's neck.
"And she to him, it appears." Abby smiles.
Abby gives them a few pointers and enough food and doggie gear to get started. "I can get you started training him in a couple of weeks." With a hug and a wave, she leaves them in their back yard with their new canine companion.
Chuck and Sarah head into the kitchen, their little Aussie at their heels nudging them along the way. Ellie and Devon having found their way to the coffee, are sitting at the table, enjoying the lull before Clara wakes up. Ellie smiles at them, and Devon offers his usual enthusiastic greeting, "Mornin. What were you two love birds doing outside so early?"—He sees the puppy.—"Whoa." In the blink of an eye, the little Aussie is behind Sarah, peeking around her leg with with timid curiosity.
"Honey, you scared him. Poor thing. Ohh, he is so cute." Ellie bends over for a better look at the puppy. "Whose is he?"
"He's ours," Chuck says, clearly happy with the new addition to Casa Bartowski.
"He's gorgeous," Devon speaks more calmly. "Australian Shepherd, blue merle. You know, they are really smart dogs, and sweet, too. Our neighbor has one. I've been sort of researching the breed." He cuts his eyes toward Ellie.
Clara wakes up, and jump starts everybody's morning. Devon feeds Clara, while Chuck and Ellie make pancakes. Sarah washes an assortment of red berries and dotes on her new, four-legged friend, getting him to sit and shake and lie down.
Chuck and Sarah go to the door, their little Aussie bounding along beside them. Chuck tells him to sit. The dog looks at Chuck and wags his tail-less hind end in a way that makes him appear hinged in the middle. Sarah looks at the dog and says, "Sit." The dog sits. Chuck furrows his brow and opens the door.
Alex enters, then Morgan carrying an arm load of games and back yard toys. Alex bends down to look at the puppey. "Oh, he's so cute. Look at his blue eyes. Whose is he?"
"Ours," Sarah says, bending over to pick him up. Alex pets him, and he nuzzles into her hand.
"Aww. What's his name?"
"We haven't named him yet." Chuck scratches under his chin, and the dog lifts his head for more.
"Great. We can all figure out a name for him today, so we don't have to call him Dog," Morgan says from behind his boxes. "Now, a little help, please."
—^v^—
The new puppy clearly enjoys being the center of attention, with everyone calling him, petting him, and throwing toys for him to chase and chew. Casey consents to like him from a distance, and grunts at all the attention garnered by a dog.
"Look at his little tan legs and white feet," Emma says, "like he's wearing tan spats and white shoes. You could call him Spats."
Molly says, "You should call him 'Bear,' because he's so fuzzy."
Ellie likes his different colors: the mottle of black and white on his head and back, his tan cheeks and eyebrows, and the white streak between his eyes. "You could call him Patches. It's close to Peaches."
"Your Cocker Spaniel," Sarah says wide eyed.
Everyone stares at her.
"I just … remembered, again," she says with a look of wonder. "Maybe you're right about ground zero, Ellie."
Chuck tries again to get the puppy to sit. The Aussie only wags his hind end. Sarah starts to speak, but Chuck holds up a finger. "Ahh." He tries again, "Sarah says, 'sit.'" Much to everyone's amazement and amusement, the puppy looks at Sarah and sits. Chuck opens his mouth and closes it. "Sarah says, 'lie down.'" The puppy lies down, crosses his little paws and looks at Sarah, then back at Chuck, panting happily. "That is just … do you believe that. What a dog, you are," Chuck coos and rewards the Aussie with lots of petting.
The name game reaches peak silliness, when Molly looks at Sarah and whispers, "Bunny," and the two sisters giggle. Finally Casey grunts, "I almost admire the little fur ball. As much as he has all of you wrapped around his little paw, you might as well call him Sir."
The puppy yips and wags his little body, then sits, looking up at Casey. Chuck says, "You like that, do you?" The dog turns toward Chuck's voice. "Come here, Sir." The puppy bounds over to Chuck. "Sir," Chuck says thoughtfully, rubbing behind the dog's ears. "I like it. Maybe, Sir John."
Casey growls, "Watch it, Bartowski."
"Just 'Sir' it is. Sir is fine … for short." He adds the last part under his breath and winks at Sarah, who hides her smile in a cough.
The party migrates outside onto the large deck and spills into the back yard with frisbees, lawn chairs, and assorted balls and toys. Chuck and Sarah take a break from cookout preparations to watch everyone from their deck. Ellie and Devon talk with Emma and watch Clara. If Clara wanders too far, Sir blocks her path and gently nudges her back toward Ellie and Devon.
"Look at that, Chuck. Abby said that Aussies are natural herders, but … wow."
"He is pretty amazing."
Alex plays soccer with Molly, while Morgan distracts Sir from herding duty. He tosses a mini tennis ball for the Aussie, who bounds after it, his charge momentarily forgotten. With a deep sigh of contentment, Sarah smiles and leans against her husband. He puts his arm around her and kisses the side of her head. Part of Sarah feels like she landed in the middle of someone else's life. She never expected this happy, normal life. And here she is on her deck, watching her family, in her back yard. It feels surreal and yet completely right, at the same time.
"Your mom seems to have enjoyed herself this week, Sarah. I'm glad you invited her."
"Me, too."
"It's good for her, you know: being a part of your life, having a family. You've given her a true gift."
"Mm-hmm. It's been good for me, too. I see things a little differently now than I did when I was nine."
"Then you're way ahead of a lot people," Chuck teases.
"Hey, Bartowskis, when you're done with your romantic interlude over there, some of us, meaning me, are waiting for burgers to cook," Casey grumbles from the Beastmaster.
Chuck brings out the burgers, hotdogs, and veggie kabobs and helps Casey man the grill. Sarah hauls out the Labor Day feast and spreads it down the middle of the long folding table: potato salad, baked beans, macaroni salad, and gelatin salad; chili, slaw, and condiments; buns, nacho chips, and guacamole dip. Spastic colon? She furrows her brow.
Chuck sneaks up behind her. "This is almost like preparing for a mission."
"Only not as dangerous." She smiles over her shoulder.
"Incoming!" Morgan yells from the back yard. Chuck looks up just in time to catch Sir's mini-tennis ball before it lands in the potato salad. Then he looks down barely in time to avoid tripping over Sir, who wags his body with great anticipation. Chuck throws the ball, and Sir takes off after it.
Chuck looks at his hand, grimaces, and wipes it on his shirt. "Yeah." He puts his arm around Sarah's shoulder and pulls her close. "I'll take Sir's slobbery ball over bullets any day."
—^v^—
After copious amounts of food and laughter, Chuck stands. "In a minute, we can dig into Molly's brownies and Emma's homemade ice cream, but first I want to propose a toast ... with this very elegant, plastic cup. I know this is where I should say I'm grateful for our new home, and how happy I am to share this moment with all of you. And I am … grateful for all of that. But mostly, I'm grateful for my wife. He blinks his eyes and clears his throat, "I'm grateful that …" He opens his mouth, but nothing else comes out.
Sarah stands beside him, laces her fingers with his, and finishes, "He's grateful that I'm here." She gives him a quick kiss. "Me, too. I'm grateful you didn't give up on me, that you found me and loved me back to myself." She looks at everyone around the table, "And we're grateful—I'm grateful—for my family and friends who stood by us."
Plastic cups are raised, and the celebration continues long into the evening with ice cream and brownies, video games and board games, and the pleasure of being together.
Maybe Babies
The kitchen clean and tidy, the food put away, the ritual of hugs observed, and local guests departed, the Woodcombs and the Bartowskis turn in early.
Chuck and Sarah peer over the edge of Sarah's side of the bed, watching Sir circle three times before curling up on his little bed. Chuck nuzzles Sarah's neck, kissing her favorite spot. "So, how does it feel, Mrs Bartowski?"
"Mmm, you know I love it when you kiss my neck."
"Yeah. I was thinking more about the the part about us being in our own home, complete with our own dog."
She looks at him. "Oh, that." She smiles. "It feels … perfect." She kisses him, letting the kiss say things that words can't express. She pull back. "Chuck, I've been thinking."
He pushes a strand of hair out of her eyes, leaving his hand on her neck, and waits for her to continue.
"I want to make a baby. With you. I want us to make a baby."
Chuck smiles and cocks his head, his eyes full of love.
"I mean we have the house and the dog. Maybe it's time to stop practicing and try for real … to start a family."
Chuck beams. "Really?" She swallows, as he trails kisses from her jaw to her collar bone.
She thrums with desire ... for him, for babies, for a lifetime of this. "Yesss ... really."
"And this"—he kisses her forehead—"change"—just below her eye—"would start"—her lips—"when?" His face hovers over hers.
"Effective immediately." She pulls him down to begin satisfying a few of those desires.
Operation Baby Bartowski begins.
A/N: First a note of acknowledgment that "Sir" has been used before in the fandom for the name of Chuck's dog. After I had written my dog section, someone told me that Frea used the name (Sir Chewbacca Bartowski the Fourth) in her story "That Which Is Greater." My apologies for the unintentional duplication. I hope Frea will view it as a compliment and a testament to her superior taste in dog names. ;)
My thanks to ww1posterfan for some of her earlier memory research (posted in the comments under the ChuckThisBlog post Past is Prologue) and for talking through some of my memory/Intersect stuff. My theory is a hybrid of science and fiction based on her research and some of my own.