Chuck vs the Joys of Parenthood

by frompen2paper

As Chuck Bartowski held his daughter in his arms, flashes of the future skated behind his eyelids. This is how those flashes actually turned out.

12. Chuck vs the Full Disclosure

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Rating: T+, borderline M for violence and swearing.

Timeline: Two weeks before Chuck and Sarah are married. References to the Pilot, 1.08 Chuck vs. the Truth and 2.11 Chuck vs. the Santa Claus, 2.12, Chuck vs. the Third Dimension, 2.18 Chuck vs. the Broken Heart.

Summary: Chuck had always labored to keep Spy World and Chuck World separate, but now, he must merge the two to save the one person that's always been there through it all.

Alternate Characters:

Jeremiah Bingham – leader of the people who kidnapped Ellie. Distant cousin to Tyler Bingham.

Irving Bartowski – Chuck's grandfather born c. 1930, veteran of the Korean and Vietnam Wars.

*NOTE: All characters mentioned are fabricated for the entertainment purposes of this fiction. Any is relation to actual living persons is purely coincidental.

From the fluff to the action and angst. Ever since the beginning of the Parenthood universe, I've wanted to do something that involves Ellie's introduction to the second of Chuck's two lives. I've always seen it played something like this. I'm not too sure about police procedurals so this might be slightly inaccurate, but I hope it's believable enough.

Chapter 10

Chuck vs. the Disclosure

Ellie Woodcomb was a very perceptive person. She supposed she had to be concerning her chosen profession, but there was no subject more susceptible to her perceptive nature than her younger brother, Chuck. She had known her brother all of his life, was familiar with his mannerisms, could predict certain reactions, and had catalogued every little quirk and eccentricity that made up her baby brother. She had seen him grow, coached him through puberty, and watched him bloom from boy to man. It had been just the two of them for so long that they had learned to rely on each other. His triumphs were her triumphs; when he hurt, she took it personally. It had killed her those five years after Stanford, to see her vibrant, animated brother so close to his dream life of affluence and brilliance rescind back to that husk of a man. So to see how he had changed, a change that had been five years in the making was amazing.

She looked over at the man in question, fiddling with the grill as he chatted with Devon. The knowledge she had of her brother only made her more aware of the man he had become, a man so different from even five years prior. He had finally broken ties from that dead-end job at the Buy More to own his own company and with that change in occupation also came a change in appearance. His once wild and untamed curls were cut and styled, shortened into a stylish wave. He had updated his wardrobe to fit his more professional image, workday suits, dress shirts, and ties mixing in with the slacks and sweaters. Even his casual wardrobe had undergone a facelift with the occasional gamer shirt mixing in with items like his current ensemble of a thin, white, V-neck, graphic-print shirt and dark designer jeans. A pair of stylish sunglasses hung from the collar and a trendy watch accessorized his outfit. Ellie glanced down at his shoes and sighed. But try as she might, she couldn't get him to retire the Chuck Taylors that occasionally made their way into the rotation. But, as he had once entreated to her, "Baby steps, sis. Baby steps." It was better than nothing.

"Okay! Meat's ready!"

Ellie's stare diverted to the woman she believed was the source of the change in her younger brother as she descended gracefully down the steps of the patio, arms filled with the marinated ribs, steaks, and the usual armada of hamburgers and hot dogs for the grill. She watched with undisguised delight as Chuck's eyes lit up at the sight of the woman who would become his wife in a few short weeks.

"Take long enough, babe?" he chided, pulling playfully at the low ponytail tossed casually over her shoulder beneath a black headband.

Sarah slapped his hand away and merely quirked an eyebrow. "The marinate time is very precise. You wouldn't want to toy with perfection, do you?"

"Sarah's right, bro," Devon admonished, bearing the solemn seriousness of a well-informed expert. "Meat is like a beautiful flower bud, man. You must nurture and nourish until it is time for it to bloom."

Chuck cocked an eyebrow. "Poetic, Devon. No one could have put it like you." He grinned, lofting his hands in surrender. "I stand corrected."

Sarah laughed, physically rotating him around and pushing him back towards the house. "Just get back in there and finish making that famous Chuck Bartowski seven-layer dip. The beans are ready."

Chuck rolled his eyes, obliging to his fiancée's demand with a sardonic, "Yes, dear."

Sarah took pity on her slightly indentured man, grabbing the back of his shirt and pulling her back to him, pressing a long kiss to his lips as a trivial consolation. As she drew back, she caught the teasing glint in his dark eyes.

"Push, pull, push, pull," Chuck cajoled humorously. "You just can't make up your mind."

Sarah grinned, swatting him lightly on the shoulder. "Just shut up and make me my food."

Chuck stumbled slightly as he made his way back into the house, shooting her a look over his shoulder. "And so demanding, too."

Ellie sidling up to Sarah, gently bumping her shoulder with a grin. "You have him so well trained."

Sarah laughed, shaking her head. Ellie's eyes jumped to a different point of their new house before she turned to her husband.

"Devon, could you fix the lights over the pool? They look like they have a chance of falling."

"Aw, but…" Awesome made a gesture back towards the meat where it was simmering, just waiting for the fires of the grill to tease the cuts into char-broiled deliciousness.

Ellie only shot her husband a look. Awesome pouted, before huffing an audible sigh. "You got it, babe." He trumped back towards the garage for the ladder, muttering under his breath. "So not awesome."

Sarah's laughter escalated as she nudged her future sister-in-law's shoulder in return. "Right back at ya, sis."

- - -

The backyard was teeming with people to help celebrate the new home of the Woodcombs. Doctors from the hospital mingled with family friends in the sprawling backyard over the pool as the combined forces of Woodcombs, a Bartowski, and a Walker played dutiful hosts and hostesses. Greeting some friends from Devon's gym, Ellie craned her head towards the patio as her brother unwittingly made his entrance from the house, drawing quite a few stares. His handsome face was relaxed into an easy smile, and he simply radiated ease. Of course, the fact that he had just appeared on the cover of GQ didn't hurt either. There was just something about him that had seemingly evolved over the course of the last five years. He had always had such a warmth and natural allure, become more confident, more sure of himself that seemed to magnify those traits. Even the way he carried himself appeared to have changed. There was a time where, even with his tall frame, he seemed to disappear in a crowd, slinking to the rear as his slumped shoulders and shuffling steps taking him amidst the wave of people. Now, he walked back straight, shoulders back, and with an even, commanding stride that, if she could describe it, seemed almost militant. When he moved, people parted to give him a path.

She looked at her brother, his stature and strapping features even more matured with his neater, more professional – but still curly – hair and the slight stubble adorning his chin and cheeks, and smiled to herself. It was Bartowski Law Number One. Where Bartowski women were born beautiful and only grew to be even more so, Bartowski men were always late bloomers. Seeing her brother as he effortlessly made his way around, truly made her grin. He had always had great charisma but never the confidence to truly unleash it. Now, with the birth of Traversal Industries – and its annual profit – Chuck had all the confidence he needed. She didn't know if she said it enough, but she was proud of him. It had taken him awhile but he had bloomed into the man she knew he could be.

- - -

Ellie made her rounds through the guests, stopping to talk with a few of her fellow doctors and nurses. A ways away, she could see her brother chatting with Devon, exchanging stories with her husband's colleagues from cardiothoracic. He looked at ease with his fellow men, matching wits and intelligence with the most premier of intellectuals, a bit more of a challenge than offered by Devon's UCLA fraternity brothers that had sometimes popped by the apartment.

"Ellie, is that Chuck?"

Ellie turned to Margot Dolan, a pediatrician, and one of the bridesmaids at her wedding. She smiled, knowing that her peers were sure to notice the changes as well. "Yes, that's him."

"Wow," Margot whistled through her teeth, eying him up and down appreciatively. "He sure has…filled out."

Ellie tilted her head. She had noticed that Chuck's physique had seemed a bit broader over the last few years, but she feigned ignorance, shrugging her confusion. "Has he? I don't know."

Margot laughed good-naturedly. "If I wasn't already married to Nathan, I'd be the first to make a play for him. He was always so adorable and looked so great at the wedding, but now? Wow."

Ellie rolled her eyes. "And I really want to hear these things about my brother?"

"Oh, come on, Ellie. Surely you've seen it," Gina Arden, a nurse from Devon's floor, piped up. "I don't know what has gotten into your brother, but he's sure changed from the guy whose birthday party you've had to fill with your friends. He's…" Gina shivered as Chuck scratched the back of his neck, his bicep flexing slightly with the movement, "hot. He's not still at the Buy More down in the plaza, is he?"

Ellie shook her head. "No, he has his own software and technology company now, Traversal Industries."

"You mean the company that's just donated ten million dollars to the hospital?" Now Gina's gaze turned downright predatory. "Is he single?"

Ellie didn't answer, only flagged down a certain blonde woman just returning from the getting more potato salad from the fridge. "Sarah!"

Sarah diverted her path making her way to her future sister-in-law. "Hey, Ellie." She surveyed their surroundings with amusement. "Is Chuck somewhere in that mess or has he already made his crafty escape?"

Ellie pointed over her shoulder. "He's with Devon, and I haven't caught him sneaking out. He wouldn't dare."

Sarah laughed. "Don't speak too soon. The prototype for the new Spectrum series arrived in the mail this morning, and you know he's absolutely dying to try it out, especially with what the tech magazines were saying."

Ellie shared her laugh. "I don't know. He doesn't have Morgan here for influence." She shook herself at the slight incredulity of it all that her brother's company had actually designed a computer that was being hailed as the innovative gadget of the century. "But I'm being rude…" Ellie turned to her companions, listening to the conversation in interest. "Ladies, this is my brother's fiancée, Sarah Walker. Sarah, a few of my colleagues. I know you've met Margot, but this is Gina Arden, Kayla Sanchez, Raquel Gaffney, and Josephina DeTorro."

Sarah extended a hand, shaking the offered ones politely. "Nice to meet you all." She could see the assessment in their eyes, sizing her up, deeming her worthy of their company. A few of the stares drew down to the engagement ring at her finger. She felt as though she had been placed under a microscope, everything scrutinized rather than accepted at face value. It was slightly unnerving.

"So, Sarah, what do you do?"

Her cover job slipped from her mouth unconsciously, almost robotically. "I'm a professor at UCLA and working on my doctorate."

There was definite surprise in many eyes as they looked her up and down. Sarah fought the urge to roll her eyes. Yes, she was well aware that the archetype of a college professor did not extend those of her appearance – and truthfully, it was still a cover, but they didn't know that. Blonde hair, blue eyes, and big boobs an intellectual did not normally make. But those reactions also came from the same people who could never fathom how a girl "like her" could end up with a guy like Chuck.

"Really? What do you teach?"

"Criminal Justice," Sarah parroted, the ruse firmly implanted after years of practice.

"Fascinating," one simpered.

Gina Arden had her eyes resolutely fixated on the ring adorning her fourth finger. "And how did you meet Chuck?"

Sarah held her smile, knowing that no one but Chuck would truly know how frozen it was. She could practically smell the superficiality behind their questions, almost a mild interrogation to try and appraisal. This was gonna be a long afternoon.

- - -

Across the yard, Chuck was trying his hardest to keep amiable with all the ego – minus Devon, of course – that was simply oozing from his current company. But with this group of guys, it was really trying. He had met a few of Devon and Ellie's fellow cohorts at their wedding and had found most of them to be very agreeable, but for some reason every single one of those were noticeably absent tonight, and Chuck found himself surrounded by a sea of arrogance and pretensions.

Returning back to the conversation, he chuckled dutifully as what he assumed was some surgeon joke, taking a sip of his drink to avoid cringing.

"So, Chuck, it's nice to see you," Joe Sayer remarked. "Ellie and Devon have mentioned you often, but we've never yet really had the chance to meet."

Chuck shrugged. "Different circles and all that. My profession doesn't cross much with Ellie's and Devon's."

"So you run that new company, right?"

Chuck smiled. "Yup. Traversal Industries."

"Awesome how everything turned out, huh?" Devon chuckled, slugging Chuck in his arm.

Chuck shrugged sheepishly. "Five-year plan may have taken a bit longer than I liked, but I'd like to think it all evened out in the end."

"'Evened out?'" Devon's perpetually cocked eyebrow lofted even more skyward. "Dude, you've compensated for that five-year skid about a million times over."

Chuck only laughed. He could tell his companions were itching to ask about his newly acquired lifestyle when Jared Winston, a surgeon who worked often with Ellie, held out hand. "Hold the phone…Devon, who's that blonde talking to your wife?"

Devon only grinned, nudging his brother-in-law. Chuck took the hint, feeling a tinge of déjà vu. "That's Sarah, my fiancée."

Immediately, the respect shot up from the men as they all eyed Sarah, the tell-tale sheen in all their eyes. Chuck couldn't really blame them. She looked absolutely stunning in the plum empire-waist tank top, those long legs he loved so much extending to forever beneath frayed denim mini skirt.

"Well done, Chuck," Topher Carlson drawled. "Hard to believe you'd land such a hottie, but I guess she has a good billion reasons to say yes."

Not a lot of things truly angered Chuck, but Sarah was always a good subject to get him riled, especially speaking ill about the nature of their relationship. Devon saw the tension in his brother-in-law's frame, and covertly grabbed the back of his shirt before Chuck could advance on his colleague.

"Actually, Sarah and Chuck were together long before Chuck hit it big," Devon corrected, feeling Chuck strain slightly against his hold. "She was with him even back when he was working the Nerd Herd."

"I gotta ask, Chuck," Topher continued, unaware of the veritable caged lion ready to liberally rip him to shreds. "What does a girl like that see in a guy like you?"

"Dude!" Devon began in defense of his brother-in-law, but Chuck's hand to his shoulder stopped him. He looked into Chuck's eyes and was slightly surprised at the calm, cold, calculating glint glittering in the almost ebony spheres.

"Well for one thing," Chuck cast a precursory glance over Carlson's slight frame, a good three inches shorter than Sarah, "I'm taller than her." Chuck smiled a mysterious smile, shrugging modestly. "With so many guys never seeing anything beyond her beauty, I think she was searching for a guy that appreciated the things below surface level."

Topher recoiled slightly, eyes narrowing at the implications. He opened his mouth to respond when Chuck abruptly cut him off.

"Devon, I'm gonna go check on Sarah, she's pleading at me from across the pool." Chuck grinned. "I think her current company is too overwhelming for her." He inclined his head to the rest of the men. "Excuse me, gentlemen."

Chuck redirected his path over to the group of ladies, charming smile affixed to his face. Deftly sliding into the space between Ellie and Sarah, he lightly lay a hand at Sarah's back, fingertips brushing the over the delicate lacing winding around the bust of her tank top before he leaned in, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

"Hey, honey. I hope the conversation is a lot more stirring than the workings of the human heart. You know those cardio-thoracic doctors are just too sentimental."

Sarah smiled impishly. "What, Devon's company not up to par?"

Chuck smirked, his hold drifting down to her waist. "Hate to break it to you, babe, but he's not as pretty to look at as you are."

Sarah's eyebrows flicked upward. "Should I be worried?"

Chuck looked nonplussed. "I'm sure I'm breaking your heart here, sweetie, but he's not my type."

An elbow to his side drew his attention. "And I would never think to forget you, too, sis. I'm sure Devon knows you're so much prettier." He turned to the rest of the women surrounding his sister and fiancée. "Good afternoon, ladies."

"Hi, Chuck."

Chuck recoiled back slightly as the breathy chorus reached his ears and all eyes turned to him. "I'm sorry, I'm not familiar with all of you."

As the round of introductions commenced and finished, Chuck grinned. "I hope I'm not cramping your female sensibilities with my presence."

"Hardly that," Gina Arden murmured. "We were just talking about you, actually."

"If it came from Ellie concerning a bathtub and a rubber duck, keep in mind that I was four…" Chuck glanced around at the confused faces, and smiled sheepishly. "But I guess that's irrelevant."

"Maybe it came from me," Sarah intoned coyly.

"Ah, but it wouldn't," Chuck refuted, "because I have some dirt about you and a certain ten-year high school reunion."

Sarah's eyes narrowed. "You wouldn't…"

The milk chocolate in Chuck's irises simply twinkled. "Oh, I so would."

Ellie shook her head at her brother and his fiancée as they playfully bickered. Once they had sorted through the problems that had plagued them in the first two years of their relationship, it seemed as though a different couple had replaced them. One that was free with the endearments and the slight displays of affection. One that was quick to banter and tease, and certainly one that was eager to commit to a concrete status besides a vague allusion of complexity. The term "It's complicated" ceased to exist in the vocabulary concerning their relationship. Ellie smiled, catching the glint of Sarah's engagement ring paired with the charm bracelet Chuck had given her that rather bizarre Christmas they had stuck in the Buy More. There was absolutely nothing complicated about that little trinket on her finger. It was truly a relief that they had come to their senses and finally solidified their status as a lasting couple. If Ellie knew one thing to be certain, it was that Sarah was truly the perfect complement to her brother. She provided motivation the way that no other person seemed to have accomplished. She had often longed that the blonde would take the Bartowski name early in their relationship, but now seeing the engagement ring adorning Sarah's finger, knowing that the wedding was only a few short weeks away, Ellie couldn't be happier that Sarah would be joining the family.

Margot leaned in to her friend, observing the couple with amusement. "Do they do this often?"

Ellie only smiled. "You have no idea."

- - -

With the dim of the evening dusk upon them, Chuck and Sarah strolled along the garden path hand in hand, finally free of their compatriots. Ellie and Devon were just finishing cleaning up, and the last of the guests were exiting through the front door.

"Well that was pleasant."

Sarah snorted. "Sure. If you could wade through the ego. I love Ellie and Awesome, but I can't understand how they deal with some of those people day in and day out."

"That reminds me," Chuck shot a teasing glance at his fiancée, the fading daylight bathing her features in their radiance. "Why did I feel like a piece of meat in that little gathering?"

"Probably because every one of them, save Margot, was single and looking at you as though you could be bought like one," Sarah replied blithely.

"Hmm…what was the going rate?" He winced as Sarah's palm impacted with his chest. "Kidding. You're the only one who can buy my meat…" Chuck tilted his head slightly, considering his statement. "Wow, that was unspeakably dirty."

Sarah laughed, shaking her head as they walked back towards the patio. "And with completely innocent intentions, too."

Chuck spluttered out a snort. "The best ones are."

Sarah rotated slightly, sliding her arms around his neck and pressing a kiss to his lips. "I appreciate the sentiment though, sweetie."

Chuck blushed. "Thanks."

Sarah smiled, running her palms down his chest. "You know, you have to start being more careful about whom you dazzle, Mr. Bartowski."

Chuck smirked. "Jealous, babe?"

Sarah quirked an eyebrow. "Hardly. I would just hate to explain to Ellie why she had to operate on one of her own colleagues."

Chuck laughed. "That's jealousy, Sarah. But while we're on the subject, you look particularly stunning today. Many of Awesome's colleagues noticed."

"Jealous, babe?" Sarah mocked.

"Hardly," Chuck retorted. "I would just hate to be forced to remove any vital organs from their bodies. After all, you can't quite operate on hearts if you don't have one of your own."

Sarah chuckled, propping her chin on his chest. "Well aren't we quite a pair?"

Chuck grinned, "If only they knew the real story of how we got to this part."

Sarah craned her neck up slightly, seeking his lips with her own, her height boosted up with the peep-toe wedges on her feet. "I doubt they'd believe it."

Chuck laughed, leaning back and lifting her off her feet. "I hardly believe it, myself."

Sarah nuzzled his neck, one hand running through his shortened curls. Slipping her arms around his waist, she leaned against his chest, eyes raking over the new Woodcomb house and sighed.

Chuck smiled to himself, recognizing the noise for what it was. "Something on your mind?"

"What makes you think that?" Sarah mumbled against the fabric of his shirt.

His chest rumbled as a laugh rippled through him. "Because that was a contemplative sigh."

Sarah shared his laugh. "What you have my sighs numbered like you do Casey's grunts?"

She could feel him smile even if she couldn't see it with her cheek nestled against his breastbone.

"No. I just know you." Chuck gazed down at the golden hair just beneath his eye line. "Well?"

Sarah paused before continuing, her voice soft with longing. "I want this."

The vague answer prompted Chuck to urge her forward. "What?"

"This," Sarah edified. "A house. A home. The condo is nice, but I want somewhere with a big yard and a pool…"

Chuck's innate perception kicked in. "Some place for the kids to run around?"

Sarah paused, gauging the tone in his voice before nodding shyly. "Yeah…"

Chuck's eyes twinkled with mirth. "Sarah Walker, are you implying you want a family?"

Sarah's slow smile spread across her face as she nodded. "Yeah, I think I am." She looked back at Ellie and Devon, sharing a kiss. "Not now. Not yet. But someday." She craned her head upward to her fiancé. "You think we'll have our white picket face and two-point-five?"

"I refuse to relegate our children to a statistic," Chuck refuted firmly. "That, and I have no idea how to conceive point-five of a child."

"Well do you?"

"Of course I do," Chuck asserted. He leaned in and nudged her nose with his. "And I think you'll make the best mom.

"Really?"

"Without a doubt."

Sarah sighed happily, nestling into the crook of his neck, her mind already whirling with thoughts of a little girl with her hair and Chuck's eyes or a little boy with her eyes and Chuck's curls. Chuck tightened his embrace, palms running up and down her back in a smooth, soothing rhythm.

Sarah nipped at his chin, breaking from her daydream. "You ready to go?"

Chuck smirked. "You so eager to start our baby making?"

Sarah grinned wickedly. "Oh, honey, we don't need that as an excuse…"

Chuck chuckled, holding her captive with one arm around her waist, the other lovingly brushing her bangs from her face. "Let's go."

Ellie glanced up as the couple approached to say their goodbyes. She smiled, accepting the kiss to the cheek from her brother and wrapping Sarah up in a hug. She sighed as they departed, arms around each other's waists. She had witnessed their entire exchange from a distance and beamed to herself. Yes, her brother had changed. This afternoon made that all too clear. But in her opinion, his changes had been nothing but for the better.

- - -

It was just after midnight when the insistent buzzing sounded from his phone at the bedside table. Chuck groaned as he rolled away from the warmth of his wife. He snatched the device from its place, groping for the answer button and raised the phone to his ear. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stifled a yawn behind his fist.

"'Lo?" As the familiar baritone of his brother-in-law, Chuck blinked blearily, glancing over at the clock, the numbers illuminated amidst the dark room. "Devon?"

Whatever residual affects of his slumber vanished as Devon's frantic tone bumbled out a barely coherent sentence. He shifted as Sarah awakened, sitting up behind him.

"Chuck?"

He held a hand up, the furrow in his forehead deepening as he processed Devon's words. The brown in his eyes flashed darker as his mouth tightened.

"We'll be there in five."

He looked down at the phone, watching as the screen flickered, signaling the end of the call. He rotated slightly, catching Sarah's eye as she looked at him worriedly over his shoulder. The sheen in his eyes was unlike anything she had ever seen before. It was a conflicted glint, torn between ferocious, inhuman rage and heady, feeble concern, the color a shade lighter than but without the merry twinkle.

"What's wrong?"

Chuck blew out a breath. "Ellie's missing, and Devon just got a ransom call."

- - -

Chuck threw the Rover into park, tires squealing just short of the curb. With a frantic bound, he tumbled out of the SUV before he had scarcely extracted the keys. With Sarah at his heels, he made a beeline to the front door that Devon flung open the moment he saw his in-laws approach.

"Devon!" The name flew from Chuck's mouth the same as Devon began speaking, his voice hoarse and panicked.

"Chuck, I don't…I can't. She was just…and…" Devon trailed off, his rampant emotions rendering him into a rambling mess, incoherent and haphazard.

Chuck grabbed his brother-in-law by the shoulders. "Devon, slow down. What happened?"

"I don't know!" Devon cried. "We needed more trash bags for the stuff from the party so Ellie went to the store to get some. She was gone for a bit, but you know how she is. She goes out for one thing and comes back with fifty things. But when an hour turned into four, I got worried. So I called her cell, and some guy picked up saying they had her."

Chuck's expression darkened in turn with the glint in his eyes. "And?"

"They're demanding five million dollars for her." Devon began pacing back and forth anxiously. "Chuck, bro, I don't know what to do. I don't have that kind of cash."

"No…but I do."

Devon started, eyes wide with fear. "Do you think…?"

"This was a message to me," Chuck asserted, running one hand through his tousled hair. "They must have known you wouldn't have that type of money to pay the ransom and would go to me. This is a play for Charles Montgomery."

Devon sank down onto his couch, anxiously fiddling with the white gold wedding band at his finger. "What are we gonna do? They'll hurt Ellie if we don't pay, and they already said they don't want the police involved."

Chuck caught Sarah's eye, the two conversing without words. With a barely discernible nod, the couple agreed, and Chuck turned to his brother-in-law.

"Devon, we're gonna take care of this."

Devon swallowed hard, looking at his surroundings. This was his home with Ellie. They were celebrating finally moving out of an apartment and into an actual house when this had happened. Devon rose and shoved his hands in his pockets, his normally lively and animated eyes dulled with worry. He shook his head. "Chuck, bro…"

Chuck took his brother-in-law's arm, drawing him to the side. "Devon, the police will not be able to do much." He looked Awesome straight in the eye. "Let me use my resources."

Devon closed his eyes, finally showing his age in a way that had never been present in the good Captain's normal emotional repertoire. "Chuck…"

"Devon."

Devon recoiled back at the tone of Chuck's voice. This was a side of his brother-in-law that he had never seen before. Chuck was commanding and stern, his eyes flashing black. There was something about the normally amiable man that gave the good Captain pause. Devon could see the conviction behind the younger man's eyes and took a step back, nodding seriously.

"Alright, bro. You do what you have to do."

"We'll get her back, Devon. Just hang tight here."

Devon watched as his brother-in-law rotated, striding towards his fiancée. The pair conversed shortly for a moment before rushing out the door. He had never seen Chuck like this before. He was almost militant in the way he commanded the situation. He didn't know how, he didn't know why, but something in him believed Chuck. All he had to do was wait.

- - -

Team Chuck stood before the large screen in the secret room of the Bartowski homestead. Before them the dual authority of Graham and Beckman hovered, listening to the information they had just become privy to.

"Let me get this straight," General Beckman asserted, "you wish to lead your team in a rescue mission of your sister."

"Yes," Chuck asserted, arms crossed over his chest. "Agents Grayson and Walker, Colonel Casey, and I wish to personally handle this matter."

Director Graham gazed sternly at the assembled team. "Do you believe these kidnappers have any indication of your ties to the Agency?"

"No," Chuck answered. "I don't believe this has any relation to the Intersect. I believe this is a ploy just for Charles Montgomery."

"And I assume you wish to take care of this problem without the local authorities?" Beckman cut in.

"Yes, ma'am," Chuck answered. "This is personal. I intend to handle it personally. I don't trust local authorities to…properly conduct a matter of this extent."

"Be aware, Agent Bartowski, that you and your team will not have the government's backing on this one," Beckman cautioned.

Chuck only smiled, knowing exactly what the general meant by that assertion. "Yes, General."

"That being said," the glint in her eyes told the team all they needed to know, "Good luck." Give them hell.

Casey grinned that animalistic grin that could strike fear into the hearts of the toughest of men. "You heard the general." He extracted the Beretta from his waistband, cocking the weapon almost gleefully. "God, I love the sound of that. Especially for a good cause."

- - -

Sarah entered the weapons area of their base, already equipped with her tactical gear, to find her fiancé sitting on one of the benches. He was dressed in a compression black t-shirt and combat boots, a bulletproof vest and his Walther at his side. His tall frame was hunched over, his head in his hands as he gazed at the photo of him and Ellie at her wedding. The unshed tears mingled at his eyelids, but he refused to let them drop.

Sarah eased herself onto the bench beside him, pressing a kiss to his temple, wrapping one arm around his shoulders. "Hey, babe, don't worry. We'll get Ellie back. There's no one better than us."

Chuck was silent for a long moment, eyes downcast and hands anxiously playing with the strap of his tactical watch, but when he spoke, it was a voice controlled and tense, the voice of Charles Montgomery.

"The first time someone threatened Ellie, I couldn't really do anything. The second time someone threatened Ellie, I was forced to comply with his demands. Not this time. I can do something, and I refuse to just sit by and watch."

Sarah cupped his face in her hands. "Remember who you are, babe. Remember that at the core you are Chuck Bartowski."

Chuck's features were strained with the repressed anger bubbling at the surface. "I want to hurt them. I want to truss them up and use them as punching bags before killing them slowly, making them suffer."

"But you won't," Sarah asserted softly. "Because you are Chuck Bartowski, and you're a better person than that."

"Is that wrong?" Chuck's whisper was hardly audible, holding the naive quality of an innocent child who had just gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"What do you think?"

His sigh was heavy with intent, conceding to basic moral logic. "I guess so."

"I'm not saying it's wrong to think that," Sarah amended slightly. "It's only human. I feel the same way, but both you and I know where we can't cross the line, if not only for keeping our own humanity. If it comes to that, we'll do what we have to. But only then."

Chuck trembled, his fingers balled into fists and held tightly to his forehead as he rocked back and forth. Sarah could tell he was battling with himself, combating with the polar emotions of vicious rage and helpless anxiety. Finally, he crumbled, the weight of the situation bearing too heavily on his conscience. He collapsed into her, the tears finally eclipsing the threshold, and she folded herself around him, cradling him to her breast. The sobs wracked at his normally strong frame. His fingers clutched at her shirt, physically seeking purchase and comfort even if emotionally, he was floundering. She simply held him, soothing him as best she could. After a few moments, his choppy, ragged breaths slowed and steadied, retaining the deep, even pace of a precarious calm. The muscles beneath her fingertips became bunched and tensed as the transition from Chuck Bartowski to Charles Montgomery became complete.

"Are you ready?"

Chuck hefted himself up, his head bowed as he composed himself. When he lifted his head again, his milk chocolate spheres shone with the dark determination and cold ferocity of Special Agent Charles Montgomery. He reached down, grabbing the vest and slipping his arms through the holes, latching the straps securely. He grabbed his Walther, looking at it contemplatively before locking it, slipping the firearm into one of his thigh holsters. Without a word, he rotated, striding out of the cage.

Sarah watched him go before following him out, grabbing her Colt semi-automatic on the way, pausing slightly to swipe a Colt M4. It was one thing to say what she had to Chuck; it was another to follow through on it herself. She felt the same helpless anger as Chuck did. Ellie was her sister. She was her family. This was personal.

- - -

Chuck stood before his team. Three pairs of eyes, ranging from a bold royal blue, to a piercing ice blue, to a sparkling forest green stared back at him. They had never indulged in pep talks before missions; the gesture would be asinine and empty. But this wasn't their typical mission. This wasn't something that had come from the Intersect or some dossier. This was one of their own at risk. The words needed to be said.

"This is personal for all of us. Ellie is part of our family. No matter if you argue it or not, there is emotion behind this. Let it fuel you. Show them no mercy. They fuck with us, we will fuck them over tenfold. There is no doubt that we will bring her back alive and well." Chuck took in a deep breath, turning towards the SUV.

"Let's do this."

- - -

There was a sense of feral urgency as Team Chuck bore down on their destination. All involved knew the severity of the situation and treated it accordingly. With the unconscious precision honed through the years, the core group of four moved silently into position. Their auxiliary team moved swiftly behind them, weapons at the ready, waiting for the agent in charge to give the signal.

Chuck's voice sounded soft and slow through the communications link as he ascended to his designated perch. All eyes were fixated on the warehouse before them. The place Ellie's kidnappers had taken her, housing her until the exchange, loomed ominously in the foreground. From his point, he checked his weapons, gazing down from his spot to the team enclosing the area.

"Everyone ready? We go hard and fast."

The affirmations came quick as the team readied, moving as one. Chuck checked his watch. It was almost time.

"And counting down."

Neil loaded a clip into his assault rifle, the swarm of agents behind him, hand raised and waiting for the signal. He was new to Team Chuck, barely a few months in, but the eldest Bartowski had been the first to truly welcome him with the genuine open heart she was known for. Neil gripped the handle of his weapon strongly. He was happy to render his services to this team for this cause. In his eyes, there was no better use of his skills.

"Three…"

Casey aimed his rocket launcher at the entrance, eyeing the scope with a sick glee. It had been quite a while since he was able to handle the heavy machinery. And no better purpose than today.

"Two…"

Sarah readied herself at the south entrance, her own team fanning her back. There was nothing more she would like to do than to charge in there and rip every one of Ellie's kidnapper's heads off. For whatever reason, they felt it suitable to take this woman who had nothing to do with Chuck other than having the fortune of relations. She was a mechanism for whatever sick game these kidnappers were playing.

Chuck crept along his entrance point, placing devices strategically along the glass. He looked down to where Ellie sat bound to a chair, surrounded in a half-circle by the men that had taken her. Go time.

"One."

- - -

Ellie trembled as she looked up into the green eyes of the man before her, the only visible physical trait available to her. He paced before her as his fellows flanked him from behind. He was toying with her, knowing that he had the power. She looked down at herself, hands and feet tied, mouth shut with duct tape. The events that had brought her to this point – bound and gagged to a chair in the middle of a warehouse she had no idea where it was located – had been a blur, a whirlwind of action that dragged her along for the ride.

They had mocked and ridiculed her, taunted her, taken sick glee in her terror, but thankfully had not physically harmed her. They weren't after her. She was just a means to an end. They were after her brother and the immense wealth he had at his fingertips. She was just a pawn in their game. A game that was rapidly losing time. Chuck had about five minutes before they would retaliate.

The leader checked his watch, shaking his head in mock sadness. "Well, Dr. Woodcomb, it seems as though your brother has no sense of punctuality. Looks like we're gonna have to send him a bit of a message. Perhaps a body part?"

Ellie shrank away as he advanced, drawing a knife. He was about five feet away when explosions rocked the warehouse, and the glass above them shattered. Her kidnappers dove away from the rapidly tumbling particles, and Ellie gasped as a black blur descended from the roof to land in a crouched position right in front of her, his back to her. Ellie couldn't speak, only looked up in awe at the broad-shouldered, imposing figure straightened, physically placing himself between her and her kidnappers. His muscles were bunched, evident in the tight black shirt poured over the lean frame and protected by the bullet-proof vest. A semi-automatic pistol was holstered at his right thigh, extra magazines at pouches on his hip. His fists were clenched at his sides and ready to strike.

But what truly astonished her was the face revealed when her mysterious savior rotated and shot her a reassuring wink.

It was her brother's.

The mountain of man with enough ammo to send all of Texas into orbit was her goofy, mild-mannered, completely harmless brother. Who had leaped from the roof of a warehouse to land in front of her. With guns strapped to his thighs. Ellie had never even seen Chuck look the way he did now, so commanding and completely dangerous. She had never noticed, but seeing him now, the muscles were clearly defined beneath his shirt, ready for action.

"Hope you don't mind me dropping in."

Ellie suppressed a shiver. His voice was far from its normally cheerful timbre. It held a cold, falsely amiable, and slightly mordant tone. Rather than the welcoming warmth that it normally exuded, it made the hearer wary, as though the affable façade would crumble just as quickly as it manifested.

"Mr. Montgomery, so nice of you to join us," the leader simpered. "We were having such a nice chat with your sister."

Chuck inclined his head, the steady, intense stare not leaving his face. "I'll bet. She's quite the conversationalist."

"By your presence, I assume you've agreed to our demands."

"Well, you know what they say about assuming," he quipped absently. He looked back again to Ellie, and she drew in a sharp breath at the ebony of his normally milk chocolate eyes. It was as though the color had been completely engulfed by the dark sheen encompassing the irises.

"She doesn't look like she's been harmed. That will work in your favor."

A smirk flashed from beneath the ski mask. "Brave words from a software mogul. And that outfit. Very impressive. Sadly, I don't think squirt guns and smoke grenades are very conducive to your cause."

Chuck only tilted his head, his dark stare betraying nothing.

Unnerved by the steady silence, crumbling slightly beneath the piercing ebony gaze, the head kidnapper decided to regain control of the situation. "Well, Mr. Montgomery, where is my money?"

"Your money?" Chuck cocked an eyebrow. "You say that as though I've consented to your terms."

"Mr. Montgomery, you realize that if you do not meet my demands, I will have to kill your sister."

"Well, to get to my sister, you will have to get through me." Chuck visibly moved to stand right before Ellie, blocking her from her kidnappers' view. "And I dare you to try."

Ellie's eyes widened as Chuck faced down the group advancing on him. He didn't shrink away, only steeled himself, readying himself for the confrontation.

"Ellie!"

Ellie jumped at the whisper, and her eyes widened as she found her brother's fiancée beside her with a very large assault rifle in her hands.

"Ellie, are you okay?"

"I-I'm fine," Ellie managed to stutter out.

Sarah nodded, deftly slicing through her bonds. "We have to get you out of here." Grabbing her by the arm, Sarah rushed Ellie back towards a group of crates that gave them ample cover in case Chuck needed some additional backup. Her back against the wood box, Sarah scanned their surroundings before deeming them acceptable. She raised a hand to her ear, the other keeping the rifle at the ready.

"Casey, do you copy?" Sarah listened for a moment. "I have Ellie, and Chuck's got the kidnappers occupied." She listened again before cursing softly. "Dammit. What about Neil's end?" She rolled her eyes. "Of course you'd do it the messy way. Yeah, I've got it covered. Men…" Sarah turned back to Ellie. "All exits are blocked. We might have to wait this out."

Ellie blankly nodded, the realization of what she was seeing yet to fully hit her, and she swallowed hard, venturing out a thought. "What about Chuck?"

A ghost of a smile flitted over Sarah's lips before she shook her head. "Don't worry about Chuck. He can take care of himself."

Ellie helplessly turned back to her brother to find him in the midst of a scuffle with no less than six men. Through the melee, she could see him circle his attackers before pouncing in a whirl of fists and feet. He moved with a grace and efficiency that astounded her. There was no hesitation or awkwardness as he faced off against his opponents. He was constantly in motion, dancing, dodging, twisting, moving with an elegance paired with such ferocity that she couldn't decide whether it was beautiful or vicious. His movements were swift, sure, and precise, punches landing with deadly accuracy, transitioning swiftly to his next strike or kick with such speed that it was difficult to discern from its predecessor.

Ellie gasped as one attacker pulled a knife, advancing on her brother with wild slashes that he dodged deftly. She watched as he blocked an overhead stab and in a movement so quick, she wasn't quite sure it wasn't an affectation of the mind, he rotated his wrists, turning the knife on his attacker, ramming the blade right under the breastbone. Barely pausing, he wrenched the weapon out, oblivious to the body hitting the ground, before flipping his grip to the blade and whirling sharply, sending the knife into the shoulder of another charging assailant. This wasn't her brother. The Chuck she knew could hardly throw a baseball, never mind a knife.

"Sarah?"

Sarah shook her head, sensing the unasked question in the elder woman's eyes. "We'll explain everything later. Right now, we have to concentrate on getting you out of here safely." She checked her watch. "Chuck should be finishing up right about…now."

Sarah poked her head out to find Chuck stalking around the head kidnapper, the rest either unconscious or dead at his feet. Ellie's breaths had quickened, clutching onto Sarah's arm as she witnessed her brother at his deadliest.

"I don't know what you expected to gain from this," Chuck growled at his captive lying gasping at his feet. "To be honest, I don't even care. Whatever your motive, whatever your reasons, it's all irrelevant." He kicked out, his boot connecting with the man's stomach. "You know, a good part of me really just wants to make you suffer."

The man collapsed, falling to his hands and knees, gasping for breath. "You can't do this…"

"And you can't kidnap people," Chuck mocked. "It's kinda against the law." He reached out with the toe of his boot, rolling his captive over to his back. "Your game is over. You thought you could bully me into paying money through my sister. Guess what, Einstein, I don't play too well with bullies. I had childhood issues."

"Even the all-powerful Charles Montgomery isn't above the law," came the sneer.

"Ah, I could plead voluntary manslaughter," Chuck remarked offhandedly. "But I digress…You see, my friend, the great thing about networking the way I do is that you amass connections. And I have powerful enough connections, influential enough connections to ensure that the government turns a blind eye to what has transpired between us."

Chuck grabbed the man by his throat, hauling him up and slamming him against the wall. "And I have half a mind to rip your organs out through your nose and hang you over my mantle like a deer head."

Chuck caught a glimpse of the tattoo inked into the neck, peeking out from beneath the mask, and the ebony eyes narrowed as the flash triggered.

"Well, looks like you're a bit of a celebrity as well. Jeremiah Bingham, cousin of Tyler Bingham. Second-in-command of international relations for the Aryan Brotherhood. Six years in for possession of illegal narcotics. But we all know there was intent to distribute. You only got out of life because of some under-the-table deals. Interesting." The fear became palpable as Chuck gleaned the identity Ellie's kidnapper. "Thought you could coerce me into funding your little group? I don't think so. You fuck with Charles Montgomery and anyone associated with him, there is no remote hole large enough for you to hide. Yes, I think that's a good message to send to your friends."

"You send us back, more will come in bigger numbers."

"Who says I'm sending you back alive?" Chuck withdrew his Walther, jamming the muzzle against the man's cheek. "I could very easily send you back to wherever you came from in a body bag. That would send a very potent message to your fellows, wouldn't it?"

The man spluttered, the grip on his larynx halting whatever retort he had ready. Chuck's fingers only tightened around the handle, his index flirting with the trigger. He could shoot. He could take that step.

"Chuck…"

His name was barely a whisper, but he heard it resonate as though it was a shout.

He rotated to Ellie.

And paused.

He saw his sister's eyes, wild with fear. The fear the lowlife he held at his fingers caused. His primal instinct to avenge and protect her warred with his rational sense of morality. He looked from Ellie to the man he held by the throat. He could see her pleading with him, the terror in her eyes as she witnessed something so foreign in association with the Chuck she knew. He saw the man before him, the hate and the derision he felt mixed with the fear and the knowledge that he was way in over his head. Jade green eyes filled his vision while dull emerald ones lingered at the back of his mind. He saw the bodies strewn over the warehouse floor and Ellie in Sarah's arms. The anger crumbled. He had completed the mission objective. She was safe. It was over.

He growled at Bingham, fingers flexing ominously. The coal black stare pierced through his captive before flickering with disgust. "You're not worth it."

He relaxed his grip, watching the man slid down the wall, gasping for air. He turned, holstering the pistol and walking away.

"Chuck!"

Chuck rotated, just in time to move his head to the left, avoiding the blade slashing through the air. Grabbing the outstretched arm, he fell backwards, kicking a leg up and flipping his attacker over his body. Using his momentum to roll him atop Bingham, he knocked the knife out of reach, grunting as a knuckle dug into his side. His assailant tumbled away, rising to his feet. Chuck ducked under a punch, flitting a jab to the solar plexus that doubled him over. He winced as a cross whipped his head to the side. Chuck batted away another punch, charging forward and tackling him around the waist. Lifting him bodily, Chuck flipped the man into a hold. The duo struggled for a moment, fighting for dominance before a well-placed kick forced Bingham to his knees, an arm wrapped around his throat. Chuck's arm tightened, oblivious to the gasping and wheezing. With a final twist, the tell-tale snap sounded, and the man fell limp. Chuck released the body, allowing it to slump to the ground. His shoulders slumped in turn, the weariness showing as he slowly rotated, shuffling back towards his sister and fiancée. This is what it had come to. But, strangely, he felt no sense of completion, only the inertia and apathy that came with the costly struggle for survival. It was Charles Montgomery at his best, and at the moment, Chuck hated him.

Chuck sank to his knees, reaching out to his sister. "Ellie? Ellie, are you okay?"

Ellie shrank back slightly, her eyes unfocused and unseeing.

Chuck cupped his sister's face, fingertips lightly skating over the contours that resembled his own. "Hey, big sis. It's me. It's Chuck. It's okay. They're not gonna hurt you anymore."

Ellie blinked at the familiar voice, deep and soothing with that undertone of affability. "Chuck? Wh…wh–?"

"Shhh," Chuck hushed her, wrapping her up in his arms. "I'll explain everything soon. Let's just get you out of here. Devon's worried sick."

- - -

The ride back to the Woodcomb homestead was quiet and precariously tense as Ellie held onto her brother's hand as though letting go would rip her away from this sanctuary he had brought her back to. On her other side, she leaned into Sarah, keeping physical contact with either of them as though to reassure herself she was, indeed, safe.

As soon as the SUV pulled up, Ellie bolted up and sprinted to the door of her house. The moment the door opened, Devon's head snapped up and he stared frantically at the entranceway. Ellie's face came into view, and he leaped up from his seat and bolted towards her, wrapping her in his embrace. Chuck smiled his first genuine smile since this whole situation started as Devon clung to Ellie as though he would never let her go.

Devon broke away from his wife, his eyes shining with tears, and he turned to his brother-in-law. He wrapped the younger man in a hug, murmuring his thanks over and over again. Chuck only held Devon, allowing him to sob. Finally, Devon pulled away, and his eyes widened as he took in Chuck, Sarah, Neil, and Casey. Took in the weapons holstered and safetied, and the relatively battered appearances. Took in the shirt he was clutching was actually a bulletproof vest.

"Chuck…?"

Chuck sighed, knowing this was the beginning of a very long process. "Sit down, and we'll explain everything." He turned slightly, extracting a small device from a pocket of his vest. Removing half of the device, he walked towards the Wodcomb's television and placed it on the mantle beside the flat screen. Chuck pulled an input cable from the side that was plugged into the back of the television. Immediately, an antenna extended, and the screen flickered with an unrecognizable crest before fading back to black. Chuck flipped open the remaining half of the device in his hand to reveal a miniscule keyboard. Thumbs moving expertly across the buttons, he tapped in a sequence. The screen twittered in a noise that could only be construed as an affirmative before Chuck closed the device.

"Don't be alarmed, but we're gonna have some more people joining us for this conversation, and it's pretty imperative that they're here for this."

Devon tensed, unsure of how he felt about having unknown people over so early into the aftermath. "Who would that be?"

"That would be us."

Ellie and Devon jumped as the large television in their living room beeped back to life and the rather deep voice addressed them. A tall, bald, black man in a plain black suit hovered over a seated petite redhead dressed in the navy blues of the US Air Force and bearing the insignias of a brigadier general.

Chuck gestured to their two newest arrivals. "Devon, Ellie, CIA Director Langston Graham and US Air Force General Diane Beckman of the NSA."

"CIA? NSA?" Ellie's eyes widened. "As in the federal government?"

"Yeah," Chuck breathed out, his voice quiet and weary. "This all begins and ends with the government. More specifically, the government's secrets. The stuff that they really don't want the civilians to know."

He started pacing, trying to give himself something to do to avoid looking at his sister. "You see, I have a special brain. I'm not talking just about my intelligence – don't start, Casey," Chuck wryly joked, intuitively sensing that the hulking NSA agent was opening his mouth. "It's called subliminal image recognition. Essentially, I am able to look at an image and see thousands of smaller images encoded within it."

"Everything started at Stanford," he continued. "Senior year I took a class with Professor George Fleming. What I didn't know was that Professor Fleming was a recruiter for the CIA and used his tests to identify potential candidates for the Company. My test scores were off the charts, and Fleming was pushing for me as a strong candidate for their program because of my aptitude for this subliminal image recognition."

"But you were expelled from Stanford," Ellie pointed out. "That must mean you didn't become a spy back then."

"Well, I would have been at the end of senior year, or at least been offered the opportunity, but Bryce Larkin put a stop to that. He persuaded Fleming to halt my recruitment. He said that I was a good person who didn't have the heart for this line of work. He didn't think I'd last a day in this job." Chuck paused to snort at the irony of it all before continuing. "Fleming argued that I was a guarantee for the program. Nothing short of some sort of invalidation would take me off the track. Bryce, being a self-righteous bastard with a God/hero complex, decides he is the sole savior of my innocence and concocts a plan to get me expelled and nullify my test results."

"This is a great trip down memory lane, Chuck, but what does it have to do with your obviously current employment in the CIA?" Ellie asked.

Chuck chuckled humorlessly. "This is where it gets a bit tricky."

"This begins long before your brother was even involved," Beckman commented. "With the threat of terrorist factions becoming more and more of an issue, the intelligence community decided it prudent to store of the government's Intel into a single program. That project yielded a government supercomputer that housed the data of the respective intelligence agencies. That computer was known as the Intersect."

Ellie gave him a nonplussed stare. "And this pertains how?"

"The night of my twenty-seventh birthday party, Bryce sent me an email containing the Intersect. And my brain, being the way it is, essentially downloaded the file. I essentially hold all of the government's secrets in my brain."

Ellie frowned, looking at the woman idling behind her brother. "That was the day before you met Sarah."

Chuck nodded, knowing this part would probably be the hardest to reveal to his sister. "Sarah came down here to see if I had anything to do with Bryce and his betrayal of the CIA."

"That time period is close to when John moved into the area, too," Devon remarked.

"Casey, well, he was sent to kill me originally." Chuck smirked. "But when we all realized that the secrets weren't coming out of my head anytime soon –"

"Not that he didn't try," Casey butted in with a smirk.

Chuck continued as though he hadn't been interrupted. "Casey and Sarah stayed on as my handlers and protectors."

"And what do you two have to do with this?" Ellie asked, gesturing to their two guests.

"We are Chuck's superiors," Graham asserted. "We monitor the functions of the Intersect, the computer in Chuck's brain, and instruct the team on how to proceed with the information extracted."

"Every so often, an international terrorist or organization infiltrates our boundaries to disrupt the peace," Beckman continued. "Most of the time, Chuck either stumbles into contact with these people through a completely random occurrence or we receive information that alerts us to happenings. When he sees an image embedded within the Intersect, it triggers the secrets in his head in what we have come to call a 'flash.' Their job is then to either apprehend the suspect or provide more information for the government."

"So what are you?" Devon chimed in. "A cop? A soldier?"

Chuck reached into a pocket and withdrew his credentials and badge. Ellie wordlessly took the offering, looking over the picture and running her fingers over the badge. "I'm a Special Agent of the CIA."

"Your brother has been invaluable to the safety of the American people," Beckman commented in a rare compliment.

Graham nodded in agreement. "He is truly an asset to both agencies."

Chuck smiled, turning to his superiors. "Director Graham, General Beckman, I think we'll take it from here."

"So all of this has happened in the past five years, all without me knowing and you deliberately keeping it from me?"

Chuck swallowed hard, one hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck. "Yeah."

Ellie didn't respond for the longest moment, before her eyes took on a definitive sheen. "Okay."

Standing, she shifted slightly, venturing out to the backyard without a backwards glance.

Chuck watched her leave, rubbing a hand down his face. He turned to his partners. "That definitely could have gotten worse."

Sarah cocked an eyebrow. "How, exactly?"

Chuck shrugged. "She didn't hit me. Casey hit me the first time he found out you and I…"

"And I promised I'd put a bullet in your brain if you ever mentioned that again," Casey growled baring his teeth.

"You really have to come up with a different threat, Casey."

Sarah rolled her eyes, bringing the two males back on track. "I'm gonna go talk to Ellie. I'm sure she has so much to say to me…"

"On what?" Chuck asked.

Sarah gave him an incredulous look. "What do you think, babe? We basically just told her that everything she's known for the last five years has been part of the biggest ruse ever."

Chuck sighed. "Even our relationship…" He quirked a wry half smile. "Good luck."

- - -

Sarah hovered at the doorway to the patio and pool. She wasn't sure how to approach her future sister-in-law. She knew the questions would be endless, and to be honest, she wasn't sure if she wanted to hear the inquiries she knew lingered just below the surface. Still, she approached Ellie tentatively.

"Ellie? Is there anything I can do for you?"

The tall brunette didn't look at her, only continued to stare out at the sun just rising over the horizon. "Is it just a cover? Is it all just a lie?"

She knew what Ellie was asking. She anticipated it as one of the first questions asked of her. It was a simple question, and five years ago, the answer would have been so convoluted and complex Sarah would be hard-pressed to answer it straight. Now, it was simple. He had made it simple even if it had started as hardly so.

"It started off as a ruse, yes," Sarah admitted. "A way for me to plausibly be close to him without arousing suspicion."

Ellie exhaled slowly. "And everything during that time? The dinners, the kisses, the gatherings?"

"Was just to abet the cover," Sarah affirmed.

"It was very convincing."

Sarah caught the undertone in her companion's voice. "Ellie, I am a trained operative in things like deception, seduction, and manipulation. I am able to convincingly portray any type of person from any nationality at any given time."

Ellie didn't speak, and Sarah glanced down at the ring on her finger, back to its designated spot. "I could have very easily seduced him just so he would be more susceptible to my devices, but I didn't."

Sarah felt her mind flash back to a time right after Jill Roberts had made her first reappearance in Chuck's life. "I once told him to leave the deception to me, and the only time I ever consciously deceived your brother was when I told him that I didn't have feelings for him. I lied because the truth was, he wore me down." Sarah chuckled to herself.

"I fell in love with him. All parts of him, completely and irrevocably."

She sobered. "Ellie, many of the things I have told you have been lies due to omission and skewed half-truths, but the one thing I have never fabricated are my feelings for both you and your brother. You, Devon, Chuck, you're my family. And when I accepted your brother's ring, it was wholly and genuinely with real intentions. I love Chuck. I love you like a sister, Devon as a brother. It may have started off as just a cover, but I promise you that now it's as real as it gets."

Ellie didn't answer for a moment, only continued to stare out to the endless expanse of dawning sky. Finally, she turned to Sarah, nodding once. "I'm glad."

She didn't offer anything more.

- - -

Back in the Woodcomb stronghold, Devon glanced over to where Casey was packing up their gear. Neil had already begun the trek back to debrief the brass and begin the mission reports. He had been in the same room as the NSA agent and had patiently bore the brunt of the awkward silence. Sighing in defeat, Devon shuffled to the kitchen, extracting two bottles from the fridge. Returning to the living room, Devon offered out one of the bottles. Casey took the peace offering gratefully, relieving the bottle of its cap with a definitive twist of his wrist. Devon cast a good, long look at the hulking man, finally seeing him fully for the first time.

"You were a soldier, weren't you?"

"Airman," Casey answered gruffly. "Now just a semi-retired Lieutenant Colonel."

Devon smirked. "Yeah, you never really fit as an appliance salesman."

Casey grunted. "Worse damn cover of my life."

Devon frowned, his thoughts reverting back to the information they had just received. He thought about Chuck, remembering his brother-in-law and his moments of bumbling inelegance and social awkwardness, so different from the Chuck that had been revealed to them over the last few years. "How much of Chuck was just a hoax?"

Casey smirked. "None of it," he answered. "When he trips over air or starts rambling when he's nervous, that's still him. Sure, he's gotten coordinated, can shoot a gun, make a bomb out of a tube of toothpaste, and fly most working aircraft, but at the core, he's still Chuck. Loser still has his video games, comic books, and that God forsaken Tron poster. He can still recite the opening rollups from each Star Wars episode verbatim, and Walker's still irked he refuses to sell his collection of first-printing Spiderman comics." Casey looked at the younger man.

"He's Chuck Bartowski first and Agent Bartowski second. That part has never been compromised. Me and Walker," Casey shrugged, "we've both done some pretty unsavory things to some really unsavory people, all for the country. Inherently, yeah, we're good people, but externally, we're the worst kind. The kind that would offer up a smile to your face and shake your hand then offer that same smile with a bullet to your back." He took a sip of his beer. "Chuck…Chuck's different. He's not like your typical government spook. He's able to separate be the nerd from the spy." Casey looked Devon straight in the eye.

"In this business, you have emotions, you're dead. Your brother-in-law pretty much sends all logic about what we do to hell. Bryce Larkin might have been too quick to assume Chuck couldn't handle what we do, but he was wrong. Chuck is good at this because he has the heart. Because he's a good person. Not in spite of it. He's not an emotionless tool. He cares. You won't find another agent like Chuck Bartowski."

As though he realized exactly how sentimental his little tirade was, Casey clammed up quick, chugging the last of the alcohol. Devon only smirked.

"I gather you're not trying to kill Chuck anymore."

Casey huffed out another grunt. "Are you kidding? Goddamn bastard sets me off at least once a day, and that's just for kicks."

- - -

Back in the kitchen, Chuck straightened from his lean against the doorway as Sarah reentered the house. "How'd it go?"

Sarah shrugged, ducking her head slightly. "Hard to tell. She didn't say much."

Chuck sighed, glancing out at his sister's form before nodding. "Okay…I should talk to her."

Sarah nodded. "Alright." Reaching up, she brushed a stray curl from his face, fingertips skating down the line of his cheekbone. "I love you."

Chuck quirked a sad smile, knowing the endearment was something to reassure the both of them. "Love you, too."

Gathering up his courage, Chuck stepped out to the backyard to what would prove to be the most difficult conversation of his life.

- - -

Much like his fiancée, Chuck approached tentatively. Whether it was her natural intuition or whether she just anticipated his arrival, Ellie seemed to know of his presence, her shoulders tensing.

"Hey."

"Hey," Ellie's reply was absent, almost faraway as he eased down onto the lawn chair beside her. Finally, she turned to face him, and when she did, maternal instinct reared its head as she took in the state of his face.

"Oh my God, you're bleeding. Have you cleaned those cuts yet?"

Slightly bewildered, Chuck tried to get her attention back on track. "Ellie…"

She cut him off, rising swiftly to her feet. "Stay here. Let me grab a kit to fix you up."

Chuck sighed as she bustled off, returning only seconds later with a first-aid kit in her grasp. Scooting the chair closer, she doused a liberal amount of antiseptic on a cotton ball, dabbing it onto the gash on his cheekbone. He didn't flinch, just looked at her, the relentless pool of milk chocolates burning into her. He was studying her, trying to gauge her actions. Her hands worked in the precision born from her craft as she tended to him. Her eyes were narrowed as she concentrated on dabbing the cut, all of her focus fixated on the damage that came from one man's fist. Chuck stayed silent, letting her make the first move. Finally, a few long minutes later, she spoke.

"Chuck, why are you doing this? Why of all things…this?" The question left her mouth in a whisper as she worked, so soft Chuck almost didn't hear her.

A corner of his mouth flitted upwards in a smile. "You know, I asked myself that a lot when I first got into this mess. I never asked to be a spy, and I certainly never asked to have all the government's secrets in my brain. I went up against Beckman and Graham trying my hardest to get everything back to the way it was. Back to normal." He paused, his eyes flicking to an ambiguous point away from the piercing green stare watching him with intent. "Finally, I looked at everything: my life my job, my relationships, and I asked myself, do I want to be the Nerd Herd supervisor for the rest of my life, or am I called to something greater? Is being this superspy the call I was looking for?"

"But, Chuck, this isn't like the Roark Industries job," Ellie protested, laying a butterfly band-aid over the cut before moving to the deep slice in his eyebrow. "This is a dangerous life. Why couldn't you have settled for normal?"

Chuck quirked another smile, the question taking him back to earlier days. "You know, Tyler Martin, that rockstar who made a promotional appearance at the Buy More, kinda wrestled with the same thing. He unwittingly transported messages to international terrorists by way of his tattoos. We needed him to help out in capturing those terrorists. At first, he refused, saying that this was all over his head, and it was. Because who asks a rockstar barely capable of keeping himself lucid enough to lip-synch prerecorded words to help save the world? It's one act of bravery in exchange for a lifetime of normalcy."

Those deep brown eyes bore pleadingly into a pair sprinkled with jade green. By this time, Ellie had abandoned his minor wounds, just listening as he spoke.

"This is my one act of bravery, Ellie. But it's in exchange for everyone else's normalcy."

Chuck sighed, staring down at his hands. "We were meant to do certain things. You know this, that's why you wanted to be a doctor so bad. I was meant to do this, Ellie. It took awhile for me to figure it out, but this is just something only I can do." He rotated to face Ellie fully. "Settling for normal would mean returning to mediocrity. And settling for normal would mean Sarah would not be in my life. With the Intersect out of my head, she would have been reassigned and sent to some remote place like…Jakarta."

Chuck shrugged. "I tried normal. I got stuck in a place that was taking me nowhere. I'm good at this."

Ellie's head snapped to his, her eyes widening incredulously. "You're good at this?! Chuck…you could be killed. You could be captured. You could be tortured. Someone could find you out, you could…you could…" she trailed off, her mind swirling with possibilities her mouth refused to vocalize for fear of the potential prospects becoming all too surreal.

"Ellie." His strong voice halted her rant. "Would you would stop operating just because you run the risk of also killing the patient you're treating?"

"No," Ellie answered, shaking her head. "Of course not. It's –"

"Part of your job," Chuck finished. "It's part of my job, Ellie. I could just as easily get hit by a bus tomorrow morning and die."

"But Chuck, this is different," Ellie pleaded. "This is you willingly placing yourself in harms way."

"I have a gift," Chuck murmured. "It would be an injustice to not use it. I couldn't live with myself if people suffered because of my selfishness."

Ellie blew out an exasperated sigh. "Why do you have to be so noble?"

Chuck huffed out a semi-humorless chuckle. "Because I had a good role model," he answered. "Because I had a sister who put others before herself and taught me to do the same." He reached out, grasping her hands in his. "Because you and I both know I have too much heart to let things carry on the way they are. Not when we know I can do something about it. I'm a small part of this world, Ellie, and all I'm doing is helping it to be better, one deranged bad guy at a time."

Ellie shook her head, seeing his logic and knowing the truth. Even with her apprehensions, she couldn't help but be proud of her little brother. He was doing something that was greater than anyone could have imagined for him. She looked into his eyes, far from the glittering ebony they once were and back to their normal milky, chocolate warmth.

"How do you do this?" she couldn't help but ask. "How are you able to kill a man in one instant than come home and joke with me or Devon the next?"

Chuck smiled. "Think of it like a comic book. When I'm with the family, I'm Chuck Bartowski, mild-mannered software magnate. Kinda like Clark Kent. When I'm doing the spy stuff, I'm Charles Montgomery, super secret agent of the CIA. Like Superman."

"But even Superman had a weakness," Ellie remarked feebly.

"And I have many," Chuck answered. "You, Devon, Sarah, Casey, Neil, Morgan…You remember when you caught me sneaking Devon's keycard back into his bag? When you thought he had cheated on you at his bachelor party? You said I was supposed to protect you. These secrets in my head cause a lot of collateral damage, and I have a lot of people I care about. But trust me when I say that I am protecting you every day."

Chuck's head dropped down to his chin. "I can't tell you everything, and I'll never truly be able to. To do so would put you in danger, and I can't bring myself to do more than I have to." He reached out, laying one hand over his. "But I will always protect you, and there is no better use of my Supermanly qualities than to keep you and everyone I love safe."

With a final kiss to her forehead, Chuck rose and exited, leaving his sister to her very confused thoughts.

- - -

Chuck rocked back on his heels, anxiously fiddling with his silver cufflinks, waiting for Ellie to arrive. It was the first time in three days that Ellie had initiated contact with him. He had allowed her the space to process the intricacies of everything she had just become privy to. She had meticulously avoided him those three days, not even talking to Sarah, in an obvious attempt to fully sort through the gravity of all that had just been revealed. Finally, after the three days that constituted as a veritable eon to him, Ellie had called, asking him out to lunch. Idling just outside the Traversal building, he fidgeted in place as the familiar car pulled into the parking lot, and she exited, turning towards him. Willing his feet to move, he approached her tentatively, testing out the waters.

"Hey."

Ellie looked her brother up and down. He was dressed in one of the many ensembles that she liked to joke 'channeled Cash,' utilized when he wanted to make a statement, most of the time one of power. And she wasn't sure what was more formidable than her brother's in a black pinstriped suit, black dress shirt, and classic black, gray, and white striped tie. He was imposing, yes. But it served to feed his mogul image. Little did the general population know that under that suit was a gun at the small of his back and throwing knives up his sleeves that gave him that daunting air for a whole different reason.

"Hey."

Chuck let out an unconscious breath. She didn't run away from him. That was a good sign. He shoved his hands in his pockets as they walked towards the café where they would have lunch. "How're you handling all this?"

"Knowing that your gentle-natured brother is actually a gun-toting superspy with a government supercomputer in his brain?" Ellie bobbed her head from side to side in faux contemplation before shrugging sardonically. "Not bad, I guess."

"Good," Chuck murmured, nodding in relief. "That's good."

"I'm still not completely okay with it," Ellie commented.

Chuck quirked a wry smile. "It wouldn't be you if you were."

"So all those times you've mysteriously had to duck out?"

"Missions," Chuck replied simply.

Ellie's head bobbed again, this time in understanding. "It all makes sense now."

"Hindsight is twenty-twenty," Chuck deadpanned.

"And Sarah really doesn't have a spastic colon?"

Chuck's eyes bugged, his mouth dropping open before he broke into hysterical laughter as he remembered the slip. "No. We needed to get away for a mission, and Sarah gave me pretty much no time to make up an excuse. That was the first thing I thought of."

The ice finally broken, Ellie grinned. "I'm surprised she hasn't reamed you out for it."

Chuck smirked. "She doesn't know that's what I came up with."

"Pray that she doesn't," Ellie remarked. "I have a feeling she's much more deadly than you."

Chuck beamed with pride. "She's the best there is."

Ellie couldn't help but mirror his smile at the affection in his voice. Reaching into her purse, she plucked something from the depths, holding it out to him. "Here. I have something for you."

Chuck cocked his head, his hand automatically extended. "What is it?"

Ellie shrugged. "We're not really religious, but Grandpa Irving was. You know how he fought in the Korean War, right?"

Chuck nodded, smirking slightly at one of the happier memories of his childhood with his dad's good-humored, if not slightly curmudgeonly father. "Yeah. That's all he would talk about when we were kids."

"Well, when he died, he left this medallion. I want you to have it."

Chuck glanced down at the necklace as she placed it into his palm. A pair of small, silver ovals hung from a matching chain. The metal had dulled slightly from use, well-loved through time and battered from the war it had endured. He ran his thumb over the man leaning on a staff, a small child on his back with the words "St. Christopher" above the graphic and "Protect us" below it. He looked to the second oval, holding the crest of the United States army with the West Point credo of "Duty, Honor, Country." "St. Christopher?"

"The patron saint of travelers," Ellie answered. "Legend goes that those who trust in St. Christopher will always come back from their travels. It kept Grandpa safe. It brought him back to us. I'm hoping it will do the same to you, too."

Chuck smiled, undoing his tie, loosening the top buttons, and clasping the necklace around his neck. The ovals clinked together merrily. He buttoned up his shirt and retied his tie. There was so much that he wished to say. But there would time for that another time. He settled with as simple as possible.

"Thanks, Ellie."

The pair walked along until they reached the café. Chuck scanned their surroundings, eyes taking in the nuances and details. Everything seemed normal. His eyes flickered slightly as he passed over a man. He groaned, rotated Ellie slightly and walking the other way. Dammit, he spoke too soon.

"Looks like you picked a good day to give me the medallion."

Ellie looked slightly bewildered. "Why?"

"Because about ten feet to your left is an international terrorist who really wants to blow up Dodger Stadium," Chuck muttered, picking up their pace. "Probably some sort of political statement, but I really wouldn't put it past him that he's just a Giants fan."

Ellie's eyes grew wide. "Oh! Uh…okay, I'll just…" She gestured back over her shoulder towards her car.

Chuck looked apologetic, peeking at her through lowered eyelashes. "You gonna be okay?"

Ellie waved him away. "Yeah! Yeah, you do your," Ellie tapped her temple, "thing. I'll be fine."

Chuck scuffed a shoe, looking guilty. "You sure?"

Ellie rolled her eyes, already pulling her keys out of her purse. "Yeah. Go! Rain check."

Chuck quirked a grin. He leaned down to kiss her on the cheek before rotating and jogging back towards the Traversal building. "Thanks, El."

Ellie bit her lip before calling back to her brother, her voice slightly hesitant. "Chuck!"

He halted, swiveling towards her. "Yeah?"

The jade eyes, sprinkled with the Bartowski browns pleaded imploringly at him. "Be careful."

Chuck nodded solemnly. "Always."

With one last reassuring smile, he drew out his phone, punching in a quick number. "Casey? Yeah, we got a situation…" He recoiled back, looking at the device as if it was malfunctioning. "What do you mean 'am I sure?' How the hell can it be less than certain? Yeah, I'm the one with the defective brain…you're just plain defective…" Chuck rolled his eyes, "You've threatened that for five years, Casey, better not stop now."

Ellie watched as her brother loped back to the Traversal building, bickering with John the whole way. She had always known that he was meant for greater things than just a Buy More, but she never thought he would be saving the world. She would never be fully okay with his life. She wasn't idealistic enough to disillusion herself. It terrified her that he was willingly facing down some of the most dangerous men and women in the world. It terrified her that he easily and readily took lives for the ambiguous "greater good." It terrified her that he could very well not come back one day. But was fitting, she supposed.

Even if the world remained completely ignorant of the measures taken to keep freedom safe, she knew. She knew her brother had a gift. She knew he hadn't chosen this life, but he still rose to the occasion. And she was proud. Charles Irving Bartowski was meant more for just a mediocre job and a mediocre life. He was meant for greatness. Now, he had found it.

And cut! Perhaps the most monstrous chapter I've written, but there was a lot that needed to be addressed. I'm not even sure I covered it all. Hopefully. Next will be the return of Jack Burton as he tries to pull a scam that doesn't quite end up the way he plans. Then, Cole Barker makes an appearance, followed by either your introduction to the youngest child, Shane Bartowski, who gets a bit of a gift on his twelfth birthday, or a certain Fulcrum agent returns to stir some things up. Stay tuned!

Roxy