Chuck Versus Thin Ice
By Steampunk . Chuckster
Summary: On the doorstep of the Olympics, top American curler Sarah Walker has lost her mixed doubles partner and her boyfriend in one fell swoop. Her coaches throw newbie Team U.S.A. curler Chuck Bartowski onto her team and thrust them into the Olympics, hanging America's curling hopes on two people who only have a short amount of time to learn to trust one another.
A/N: Get some tissues, folks. The gold medal match is here! Thanks to everyone still reading and reviewing!
Disclaimer: I don't own CHUCK, and I'm not making any money from this.
He thought he might go dizzy watching her if she continued pacing back and forth around the apartment, so Chuck finally leapt to his feet from the couch where he was watching the speed skating relay. He darted in front of Sarah, cutting off her path, and held her by her arms just above the elbows.
"Hey. Sarah, you're worrying yourself sick."
"This is a bad sign, Chuck. I woke up with a twinge in my lower back. That's not good. My back needs to be in perfect shape for these throws to be perfect. And we aren't going to win against that South Korean team if my shots aren't perfect, Chuck." She put a hand to her forehead.
"Your back still funky?" he asked and she nodded.
Sarah almost looked near tears, she was so worried about it.
"Hey, hey…" He put his hands on her shoulders and squeezed reassuringly, waiting for her to meet his gaze before he spoke. "Where does it hurt? Is it that bad?"
"It's not terrible. But it's enough to throw me off. If I get a twinge right as I'm letting go or something—"
"Okay, it's okay. Where is it?"
She reached around and pressed her fingers to her lower back. He moved behind her and gently replaced her hand with his, massaging the area.
"This hurt?"
"No, it kinda feels good…But—" She hissed and he pulled his hand away. "No, it wasn't you. It's just a random twinge in the muscle."
"Sounds like maybe it's just a little tight or overworked."
"Overworked, huh? And whose fault is that?" He felt like she didn't really have to send him that saucy look over her shoulder.
But in all fairness, he'd been the one on top for all of it, so she really couldn't blame last night's sex. The shower they finally shared after Jane had left to go back to her own apartment had been just that…a shower. "No funny business", as Sarah had warned him. But then she'd followed him to his bed anyway and the funny business had started there almost immediately.
"Well, you've still got a few hours 'til your report time. Just take it easy. I'll get you a heating pad from the medical staff. And I can give you another massage."
Sarah huffed and pushed her fingers through her hair. "I don't know. Maybe I've just got myself in a dither, all high-strung and tense. Or maybe I should just get it checked, just in case."
"If that will make you feel better, I say you do it." He fished his phone out of his pocket, but found Sarah's hand landing over his, stopping him from bringing Beckman's number up on her phone. "What?"
She winced. "You're very sweet, taking care of me. But it's also a very boyfriendy thing for you to do…calling Beckman to get our athletic trainer up here. I should do it myself."
Chuck smiled toothily and narrowed his eyes, pulling his hand away and slipping it back into his pocket. "Yeeeaaah, that's a good point. I got all doting and shit, lost my head. I just want you to feel good about this game, that's all."
Sarah moved up onto her toes and kissed him, reaching up to play with the stubble on his chin, since he hadn't shaved yet today. "I appreciate it. Seriously," she breathed, warmth in her features as she smiled. And then she went into the other room to grab her phone.
By the time she came back out, she had Beckman on the other end, and it took less than five minutes for their coach to come up with the athletic trainer in tow.
"What's going on? Where is the pain?" Becks practically knocked Chuck on his ass when he opened the door, blasting her way through to get to Sarah who was lounging on the couch in front of the TV.
"My lower back," she said, sitting up gingerly. He didn't know if she did it because it was hurting, or if she did it because she was being extremely careful. "It's probably nothing, but there's a twinge there every so often and I'm afraid I'll go down at the hack and not be able to get back up again." As Beckman and their athletic trainer/teammate at the Club, Greta, came around the couch, Sarah seemed to deem it necessary to add, "I'm getting to that age now where this stuff might start to happen…"
Beckman stopped and stood up from where she'd been bending down to survey Sarah's back. She put her hands on her hips and glared at the much younger woman. "Oh, yeah? Just wait 'til you get to my age, kid. Now pull your shirt up. Greta, she's all yours."
Greta snorted, pushing her shoulder-length black hair away from her face and kneeling down beside the couch, helping Sarah hoist her shirt up. "Here, let's just take it all the way off."
Chuck just stood there, watching, his arms crossed, too focused on trying not to let his worry show to notice that all three women were staring at him expectantly.
"Ahem…? Chuck?" Beckman's voice cut through his hazy mind and he looked at her, shaking himself a bit. "Sarah's taking her shirt off so that she can be examined."
"Shit!" he rushed out. "Right. No. That's—I've got some—I'm halfway through Book 1 in my Legend of Korra rewatch, so I've got that to do. In there. In the bedroom. I'll just—Yeah. Watch my cartoon."
"Wow," Greta droned. "Cool, Chuck."
"Shut up," he breathed, unable to keep from smirking in amusement. He didn't dare meet Sarah's gaze, instead hastening out of the room.
-oooo-
He heard a light knock on the bedroom door forty-five minutes later, and then Sarah opened it and stepped inside.
"Oh, hey." He stopped Legend of Korra and shut his laptop, setting it aside and sitting up straight in the middle of his bed. "So?"
"So, there's nothing serious going on. Greta is pretty sure my back is just a little sore from how intense the tournament is. She says I need to go easy on the gym visits on top of all of the curling matches. Two matches a day, all that bending and hunching over to serve and sweep, on top of the heavy lifting in the gym with weights is tiring my body out." Sarah shrugged. "Nothing wrong with me or my back. And she said not to worry about throwing it out. But that I should use this." She held up a heating pad. "And wear this kinesiology tape where it hurts during the match." She held up the roll of tape.
"Is that tape real? I mean, you're literally holding it, so it's real. I mean, does that actually work? I always see people wearing it when doing sports on TV but I'm skeptical."
She shrugged. "If I put it on and I feel better, even if it just sets my mind at ease, how's it gonna hurt?" Then she sent him a look. "Unless my boyfriend happens to have direct evidence with legit sources that disprove the method…?"
"I, uh, I don't. And, um, you're right. I've been properly chastised. Sorry." He winced.
"It's okay," she chuckled, coming over to sit on the edge of her bed. "I just need to rest and stop being so afraid of the twinge. That's what Becks said."
"'Don't Fear the Twinge' was going to be Blue Oyster Cult's follow-up to 'Don't Fear the Reaper'. Little known fact."
"Chuck. Dear God."
He snorted and then coughed a little, sobering up quick. "Sorry."
She just smiled with a bit of a side eye. "There is something else that might help, though…"
"Oh? What'd she say for you to do?"
"Well, she didn't say this directly, but she implied I need to find a way to keep my limbs loose, my body relaxed, so that the muscles aren't overused. But I'm not to, like, just fall asleep and not use them at all because they might seize up or get tense if I try to get up in a few hours to get ready for the match." Sarah shrugged. "Maybe I'll just do some rudimentary stretches, or…I had another thought."
"What's that?"
"Maybe another massage? If you wouldn't mind doing that. Just along right here where the twinge is." She pressed her lips together and lowered her chin, looking up at him through her long eyelashes. And he was struck not for the first time by how unbelievably blue they were.
"You got it, baby."
Her grin was massive, and he thought maybe he'd do anything for her when she looked at him like this. But then she carefully pulled her shirt off, unhooked her bra and did away with it with so much nonchalance that he nearly choked a bit. "What? Diane and Greta are gone."
"No, I know. Okay. Good. Right." She'd just done it so comfortably, without an ounce of embarrassment or modesty, and he was warmed by it but also…not prepared.
She scoffed at him, then swung her legs over to lie down on her stomach, shoving one of her pillows under her chest and hugging it with her arms, resting her chin on the edge of it.
Chuck cleared his throat and grabbed the lotion from the drawer for the second time in a few days, carefully squirting some into his palm and slowly draping his hands over her back. "Ya know, after all of this is over, I expect you to return the favor. Just FYI."
She grumbled in satisfaction as he began kneading her muscles in her lower back, taking his time over the area where she'd been experiencing that twinge of hers. "You mean you want me to give you a massage?"
"Yep."
"It's a deal. But I can't promise it'll be as good as…hmmmmmm…" She shut her eyes and smirked, much to his delight. "I don't think I have your talents, to be honest."
"Don't know until you try."
Her body bounced with her laughter. "I'm game."
Chuck put his knee on the mattress next to her then and swung his other leg over her so that he was straddling her, and then he really dug his fingers in just over her backside, making her moan at how good it felt. "You really like this, don't you?"
"God, who wouldn't?"
"My fingers right here hurting at all?" he asked, really rubbing that area again.
"No. It just feels really amazing," she breathed.
"Good."
He continued to massage her back and her shoulders, taking time with each of her arms then going to her lower back again. They stayed in silence for a while, and he just kept massaging, kneading, listening and feeling for any indication that he was hurting her.
And then her voice interrupted the silence, quiet and sleepy, comfortable.
"Chuck, what happened to your parents?"
Or maybe not all that comfortable…
He didn't answer for long enough, his fingers stopping where they were cupped around her sides just under her breasts, that her eyelids fluttered open and she glanced back a little. "I'm sorry. I said you could tell me in your own time and I just—"
"No, it's okay."
"You don't have to tell me. We can go back to silence and you can keep massaging me right there."
"No, no. No, I'll tell you. It's okay. I just wasn't—I wasn't expecting it. But it's okay." His throat was dry, though. Very dry. As was his mouth, suddenly. "Yeah, no. I'll, uh, I'll tell you."
"Chuck, you sound like you really don't want to. And I hate the idea of you doing anything you don't want to."
"No, it's not that I don't want to," he said, biting his lip. "It's just—It isn't something I share with many people. Usually. Or, um, I lie about it. Especially if it's someone I'm not close with, someone I won't see again."
"That makes sense." There was a long pause. "But I hope I fall into the category of someone you plan on seeing again."
He chuckled. "Uh…definitely."
"That's good to hear."
"I meeeann, I signed a contract…"
"Shut. Up." She giggled.
Chuck started moving his hands over her skin again, pressing in just the right spots to make her melt into the mattress beneath him, and he spoke quietly.
"Us Bartowskis were a pretty normal family for a bit there. The usual scuffles, arguments, Ellie and I getting into fights about when I was and wasn't allowed to go in her room, stuff like that." He chuckled. "My dad worked from home in his office. He was a contract tech developer, got contacted by people in the intelligence community sometimes to do work for them."
"Wait, seriously?" she asked, awe in her voice. "So, like, he programmed stuff for the CIA and all that?"
"Probably. I wasn't really all that aware of the details of what he did because he always kept his door closed. I wandered in one time out of curiosity to play with one of the computers and got chewed out big time." He winced. "But, um, long story short, my mom got pregnant again when I was seven. But she had a miscarriage."
"Oh." Sarah rolled onto her side a bit to look up at him. "Oh, God. That's so sad. I'm sorry."
He smiled down at her and squeezed her waist gratefully with both hands. "It's okay. It's something that happens to a lot of women out there. Unfortunately."
"Yeah," she said quietly. "I guess."
"We grieved as a family, but I don't think I was emotionally mature enough to figure it out…Ellie was. Anyway, both of my parents seemed like they were able to pull things back together for a time. But my mom was different…um, changed. She was quieter, she fought with my dad more. Ellie was kind of getting to that age, you know, when you talk back and have crazy pre-teen hormones, so she clashed a lot with my mom, too. Uh…" His voice got a little lost then as he stared down at the back of Sarah's head, his eyes slowly following the beautiful sweeping movement of her blond hair looping in and out of the braid that fell onto the pillow, how there was this lustrous thread of a lighter color weaving through it, barely noticeable unless you were really looking. "My, uh, my mom seemed distant, like she didn't want to be there. Looking back on it, Ellie says it was postpartum, but even worse than usual because it was from a miscarriage. Loss and grief sort of pulled her down and when she started coming back up, she didn't seem to really want the life she was living anymore. And so, um, she left."
He could feel Sarah's back muscles between her shoulders tense.
"What?"
She turned over onto her side, still clutching the pillow to her chest.
"Uh, yeah. She left early one morning. On, um, on a Saturday. I remember because she'd told me the night before that we'd go on a picnic. I was nine at that point, so I guess we were lucky she stuck around for two whole years in spite of her being so miserable."
"Chuck. God." She grabbed his wrist in a steady grip and squeezed, gently dragging her fingers into his and holding his hand. "I'm so sorry. Do you see her at all? Or did she just…?" She didn't seem to know how to finish that.
"She just." He ducked his head and smiled as best he could. "I haven't seen her or heard from her since. Dad, um, dad looked for a while, even considered calling the police or something. But he told us when we were older that she'd actually left a note explaining that she needed a new start. He just never showed it to us because he didn't want us to be upset." This time the laugh he let out was bitter. "Bullshit."
Chuck sighed and signaled for her to turn back over so he could continue.
"Are you sure?" she asked. "You don't have to keep—"
"No, I want to. Roll over." He smiled reassuringly.
Sarah gave him a dubious look, but relented, rolling back onto her stomach and getting comfortable so that he could continue. This wasn't anything he was prepared to say out loud to her, to this woman he'd only been dating for about two weeks, this woman he'd only known for six months, and had spoken to maybe once or twice until about two months ago. He wasn't willing to admit it to anyone, he thought, except to himself.
But this gave his hands something to do, something for him to concentrate on so that he didn't completely lose his grip while telling Sarah all of this. This was why he'd never told anyone. Ellie knew and Morgan knew because they were there. Morgan had stayed with him all weekend with permission from Ms. Grimes, and they'd played video games and had eaten ice cream without sleeping a wink for more than twenty-four hours. Devon knew because Ellie had told him before they were married. A sort of 'Here's my baggage, you still want to marry this?' before Devon went through with their elopement.
"My dad stuck around for a good while after that, but he spent all his time working in his office with the door shut and locked this time. Ellie did all the stuff like paying bills, doing the taxes, you know, like…adult stuff you shouldn't have to do when you're fourteen, fifteen. Then he started taking trips for his work. He'd be gone for a little here and there, and then longer periods of time, and eventually it was just Christmas cards and birthday calls, and then one year it just—it just stopped." He let out a long breath. "I dunno, for a while, I didn't really understand any of it, how they both left like that. The only thing that made sense was that there was somethin' wrong with us. With me."
Sarah turned over again, sitting all the way up and facing him this time. "Chuck, no. There is nothing wrong with either of you."
"No, I-I know. I mean, not that Ellie and I don't have our issues," he chuckled. "We're human." She met his smile with a small one of her own, and he reveled in the way her hand stroked up and down his forearm comfortingly. It felt so good. "The fact is, they left. I don't know why. What I do know is that it wasn't my fault. Granted, it took a significant amount of time and…" He paused. Should he say this? Should he tell her about it? Would she think he was nuts? Fuck it, he thought to himself. Because she was Sarah Walker, the woman who was far superior to the proverbial woman of his dreams…except that she was real, and here. And he wanted her to know him, to care about all of him, even the rougher parts, even the baggage. "And an incredible amount of therapy to come to that realization." Her eyes softened at that, and not in pity, but compassion perhaps? Even empathy? "But yeah, it wasn't my fault. I know that now. So…there's that," he said after a long pause. "That's my story," he drawled goofily, reverting back into trying to make her smile or laugh to cover up how freaking exposed and vulnerable the last twenty minutes made him feel. He tried to ease how intense all of this was by drawing out a long, "Aaaanywaaaay…"
She did smile, but she saw right through him, too. He could tell. And he felt raw.
Sarah dragged her hand up his arm and squeezed his shoulder. "Chuck, I'm so sorry you went through all of that. You deserved so much better. So did Ellie."
"Yeah." He shrugged. "We did. But unfortunately, that's not how life works. And we're totes good now."
That made her giggle. "I dunno, you're dating a real mess of a person."
"You and that bronze medal I have hangin' up over there are the biggest pieces of proof that I'm doin' just fine." He leaned in and pecked her on the cheek, loving the way said cheek got a little pink afterwards. Was it the kiss? Or his words? He didn't know. Either way, it made him feel warmth spill through him.
"That's very sweet," Sarah said quietly. Then she nibbled her lip, looking like she was thinking something over. Then she sighed and said, "And hey, I get the whole parent thing. Not nearly as bad as…I mean, my mom's still in my life. But we fought a lot. For a long time in my early twenties I didn't even, um, speak to her. At all. Then things settled again, we reached out, and then the fighting again. Things are only just starting to be, er, okay again. I guess. I mean, we're trying which is…good. She has a husband who I haven't met yet, but he sounds like he could be nice. Nicer than my dad ever was to her, probably. I mean, if he hangs around for longer than a few days, he's already got a leg up." Chuck lowered his chin and looked at her through his eyelashes. "Yep. Stereotypical deadbeat dad. Um…not much to say there."
Something about the way she darted her gaze to the side, not meeting his eyes when she shut down the Dad line of conversation, told Chuck there was a whole lot to say there. But she didn't push him, not even a little bit. And he sure as hell wouldn't push her.
"I'm sorry. About all of it." Then something occurred to him. "That thing Bryce said about you fighting with your mom, on TV during that broadcast."
"Yeeaaaahh." She clenched her jaw and huffed in frustration. "That."
"I thought it was intrusive he said shit about your personal life, but I had no idea it was that personal. Fuck that guy. I should go up into that booth and throw him out of it." He felt anger pulsing through him. "Seriously. What makes him think that's okay? You let him in on something personal and he breaks up with you then broadcasts it to the whole country…"
Sarah's hands wrapped around his then and she oh-so-gently unclenched his fists he hadn't realized he'd been making with her long fingers. "That's nice of you, Chuck. Wanting to kick his ass for me. But you already took the wind out of his sails. It was way hotter and a lot more enjoyable than hearing about you being arrested and having your medal taken away for beating Bryce Larkin to a bloody pulp ever would be."
He laughed a little, swelling with pride and trying to cover it up with a modest shrug. "Well, that's good. Because I couldn't fight my way out of a cardboard box, let alone kick someone's ass who is built like Michelangelo's David."
Sarah snorted. "You should know, Chuck, that those modeling photos you've seen in the magazines have professionals who photoshop the shit out of his body. It's not as great as you think. Not to be awkward, but I know for a fact that it isn't."
"I think in literally any other context I'd be kinda jealous right now, but because you said that to reassure me that Bryce's body is uglier than magazines make it look, I'm pretty okay!"
She laughed and rocked forward as he chuckled, holding her hands tighter, smiling at her warmly.
"I mean, I'm sure it's still better than mine." She sobered up quickly, ready to dispute that. "Hey, listen. I'm not as insecure about that as I, erm, admittedly was in the beginning. Ahem. I'm realistic. I'm bonier in places and not as hard in other places. Don't make that saucy face at me, Sarah Walker, we don't have time for hanky-panky before your match."
She cracked up, losing the saucy look he'd seen come over her face. She was such a horndog, he was slowly starting to realize.
"The point is, if you're okay with this," he gestured to his body, "so am I."
Sarah just scoffed. "You act like you haven't been working out hardcore for the last three months or something." Then she reached up and put her hands on his shoulders, rubbing them with a deep, crackly hum that made him absolutely shiver. "Just do me a favor and don't let these shoulders go. Keep workin' on 'em, hm?"
He blushed a bright red, he knew. He could feel it and she snorted at him for it. Oh, well.
"Girl, I will keep up those pull-ups like my life depends on it, if only you ask."
"I ask."
She said it so vehemently that they both tipped over with laughter.
-oooo-
"All right, Sarah. I'll only ask this one time, and then I won't mention it again because I don't want you dwelling on it or freaking out—"
"I don't dwell or freak out." Diane gave her a flat look and Sarah shrugged sheepishly. "Okay, fine. Maybe I was a little out of control earlier today."
"Ya think?" Then she glanced over her shoulder for a second and then looked back at Sarah. "How's your back?"
"It feels really good. I, um…I put the heating pad on it for a bit, then worked it out for a bit, heating pad, worked it out, and I'm using that kinesiology tape right now. I don't feel pain or twinges at all down there. I stretched just to make sure." She was sure lying there for an hour while Chuck massaged her entire upper body had helped, on top of them sitting on the edge of the bed, with her stationed between his legs and in front of him, while he rubbed her shoulders and continued kneading her muscles in her lower back.
They'd agreed no hanky-panky, but that hadn't kept her from turning her head and kissing him, which became a nice, long make-out session. That had been almost as necessary as the massage, she'd decided.
And as Beckman thumped her on the shoulder and walked away to check on the others, Sarah let herself have this pre-game moment to revisit everything Chuck had told her.
His parents had abandoned him and Ellie. And yet…she knew Ellie'd gone to medical school, and Chuck had gone to Stanford. Stanford, for God's sake. Probably the most difficult school to get into in the country. And they'd done this without even a bit of support from their parents. No emotional support, no financial support. Unless their dad sent money to help them. She wondered if he'd put checks in those birthday cards and Christmas cards.
Sarah had so many questions. How did they manage? They were kids. Teenagers. How did they do that? And teenage Ellie doing taxes, paying the bills? All of the things her own mom had been there to handle, in spite of them butting heads more often than not…Ellie and Chuck had no adults to guide them through it. It made her feel a deep pit of sadness inside of her.
The shit their parents put them through by leaving, abandoning their children. She almost felt sick with concern thinking about Chuck and his sister like that.
And she could hear how hard it was for Chuck to talk about it. He'd done it anyway, and he hadn't seemed too reluctant, except that maybe it didn't feel good for him to relive it. And she felt a bit ashamed for asking him to. But now she knew that Ellie and Chuck Bartowski were even more impressive than they'd seemed to her before. They were such good people, their goodness the type of goodness that rubbed off on the people around them. And they were both successful. Ellie had a medical degree and Chuck—well, she assumed Chuck was doing all right with his freelancing work, programming or whatever it was he did. Maybe that was something she'd ask him more about sometime.
She wondered how often Chuck thought about his parents, if he ever thought about trying to track them down. Did he even know if they were both still alive? Or had the siblings just agreed to let it all go, to make do with one another's support, live their lives, find happiness elsewhere?
"It's go time!"
Sarah shook herself as Jane's voice cut into her thoughts. She needed to push it all aside now, because this was the gold medal match.
And there was no way in hell she was letting anything get in her way of winning that gold.
The arena was full of people, every seat taken from the bottom all the way to the very top. There were South Korea flags literally everywhere, and a smattering of American flags intermixed throughout. She didn't look up at the coach's table, or the section behind it, because she knew Chuck was there, along with the men's team, Ellie and Devon probably, Morgan definitely. And somewhere up in the press box sat Bryce Larkin, hopefully having been cut down to size twice over now that he'd had the watch mishap and her verbal smackdown yesterday.
"How you feeling?" Jane asked before they got their mics attached to their red polo collars.
"Like I'm about to win a gold medal. You?"
"Same."
They exchanged confident smirks, but shut up quick once the mics were put on.
The match began with South Korea getting the hammer.
Lou threw a draw just outside the button on the center line, then set up a fantastic guard to line up right in front of it.
But the South Koreans were smart. Their crafty shots were hard to predict, and Sarah found she couldn't exactly figure out what their game plan was for the End. By the time Choi threw the hammer, South Korea got themselves up by two points.
And then in the second End, Sarah had won two points with her hammer throw.
In the third, Choi was forced to only one point gain, and in the fourth, Sarah was similarly stalled to taking only one.
But by the time they left the ice for the end of the first half, South Korea had five points to the United States' three.
"God, is this the way the game's going to be the whole time?" Anna asked, slumping onto the bench in the prep room. "Back and forth, back and forth. I feel like I'm going nuts."
"They are formidable opponents. But we are more formidable," Lou said solemnly.
"Well, that's the plan anyway," Jane said in a droll voice.
"We just have to stay on task. Look at every angle to get one up on them. Because if we're always chasing, we aren't going to win the match," Sarah said, taking her gloves off and drying her hands, flapping the gloves, too, considering how much her palms had been sweating.
"Yeah. You're right. Choi's got us on the back foot."
"Let's get her on the back foot, then," Anna responded to Jane. "I think to do that, though, Lou and I need to be more offensive. And we need to be more offensive right off the bat here, get those points back, at least tie it at five."
"Yep. Their first shot is going to be a draw into the house," Lou added. "I can take it out, pick it off, try to maybe roll my shooter behind the guard I set up in my first throw."
"That's good. It'll be protected and from there we can just keep the house clear. We should get at least two that way. Good idea, Lou," Sarah said. They stood together and put their hands in the middle, holding onto one another for dear life. "We're more than capable of beating this team. We did it before. Yeah, they've got the crowd behind them—"
"But we've got Morgan's sign," Jane said.
They all laughed at that.
Nothing else needed to be said. No matter what happened out there, whether the night ended with silver or gold, they had each other's backs.
Sarah could feel it in the air between them.
And she felt really good as they headed out for the second half.
Lou executed her plan perfectly, and Anna picked off every single Korean rock that was thrown into the house with her shots, managing to hit and stay with each one. Jane took out one of the opposing team's rocks and rolled her shooter into the button. And she made it so that the house was empty of South Korea's red rocks, leaving two yellows in the house and Sarah with the hammer.
Sarah scored three points for Team U.S.A. as the sixth End came to a close, leaving the score at six to five, favoring her team.
The South Koreans figured out what the U.S. had done in the last End and tried to recreate it now that they had the hammer in the seventh End, but Anna had picked up on it quick, switching up her shots to crowd the house instead of falling into the trap. It threw Park Mi Na off enough that she crashed on one of her team's own guards, making her miss a double take out opportunity.
It was the type of mistake that had the potential to lose the game for the South Koreans, and Sarah found herself smiling on the inside as the fans let out a loud groan but then applauded the efforts anyway as Park shook her head in frustration with herself.
Lou reached over on the other side of the house when Park slid to a stop near her and gave the other woman a reassuring low five.
But it was Jane's first throw now. She had two guards to curl around with two South Korean rocks in first and second counting position near the button. If she could hit the rock in second position head on, it would send the rock behind it out, and she could come in with her second shot to hit her own rock and send the last Korean rock out of the house as well. They would end up with three counters and South Korea's star skip, Choi, would have to make some really miraculous shots to ensure the U.S. didn't steal points in this End. And she'd have Sarah dogging her every step of the way.
One miracle shot wasn't enough for Choi, because her second shot didn't pan out. And in spite of her valiant efforts, the U.S. had put too many rocks in the center of the house, meaning she'd only been able to take out two of them with her hammer, leaving three yellow rocks in counting position for Sarah's team.
They headed into the eighth End with nine points to South Korea's five. Sarah fought back any premature celebrating, shoving it down, focusing on her shots. Because South Korea kept them to only scoring one point in the End.
Ten to five.
In the ninth End, Park got her groove back, managing to bump three of the U.S. Stones out of counting position and getting her shooter to roll onto the button. Choi's hammer slid in to take out the U.S.'s rock in second position, scoring three points for South Korea. The arena erupted in a celebratory roar that was almost deafening.
Ten to eight.
The tenth End went for almost an entire forty minutes, but it had felt like three hours to Sarah. Jane had just barely crashed on a rock that was in the front of the house, sending the her shooter skidding out without doing any damage to South Korea's counter.
And now Sarah stood over the house with her teammates, looking down at the rock placement. She had the last rock of the entire match. And she couldn't think of what to do.
There were two rocks on the button, the South Korean rock behind the U.S. yellow rock, and they were frozen together. It was anyone's call which of them was in counting position. And right now it didn't matter. It might matter after her shot. If she completely screwed this up.
South Korea set up two guards, no passable port between them, a few feet in front of the House, which meant a straight shot towards the button was impossible. The U.S. Had that rock Jane had crashed on, still sitting at the front of the eight foot ring. And South Korea had a rock at the front corner of the twelve foot ring.
"I'm freaking stuck," Jane said. "We can't go straight in, they've set those guards perfectly."
"Yeah, not to mention, they have this sucker on the button," Anna added, pointing to the South Korean red rock at the back of the button, frozen to their rock at the front.
Sarah scratched her head. "I think we need Becks on this," she said.
"Who?" Lou asked, but Sarah was already calling a timeout.
"Did she just call the coach 'Becks'?"
Diane came down for their minute of coaching time, and the second she stepped up with her team, carefully maneuvering her way onto the ice, she pointed to their rock on the button. "Sarah, channel your inner curly-haired idiot," the older redhead said. The other players choked a little but Sarah just smirked. Oh, Chuck. "This rock is the only one we can potentially score with, isn't it?"
"It is."
"Think."
"Can you just tell me what to do? Since we only have, like, thirty seconds left?"
"I don't know what to do. My brain doesn't work like his does. But I've seen you—"
"Oh, shit—taki mushrooms," she rushed out. "Think like Chuck."
"What've you got, Femme Chuck?" Lou asked.
Sarah ignored the nickname, pointing to the South Korean rock at the front corner of the twelve foot ring. "We can't go down the middle, but we can substitute this one, make it do exactly the same thing I would've done if those guards weren't there, if I sent my shooter down the center. Crack into this, send it rolling to smack our rock on the button, send their last rock out the back of the house. Boom."
Beckman shrugged. "That works."
And then she left, just like that, leaving Sarah and her teammates to set up. Sarah took a moment to get her bearings. This was absolutely a Chuck shot. Because if Sarah missed this, totally wrecked it, South Korea would score two points to tie up the match. And they'd head into an eleventh End. God, she hated overtime.
Sarah rolled her head back and forth, cracked a few knuckles, and scooted her last yellow rock over to the hack. This was potentially her last competitive action of her entire Olympic experience. The last throw she'd make in front of TV cameras, in front of this amazing South Korean-heavy crowd.
She heard a voice in her head, then. It was a grotesque combination of everyone who'd held her back in her life, telling her she wasn't Chuck. The circus shot wasn't her specialty. This would have to be perfect, and when in her life had she ever been anywhere close to perfect?
But just like that, as she crawled down in front of the hack and set the toes of her shoes, stretching her fingers before closing them over the handle of the rock, she remembered the look on Chuck's face as he finally admitted to her that she'd been the reason he started curling. He'd noticed her because he thought she was hot at first—as much as he'd tried to downplay that. But the way he talked about her shots, the way the audience had swept him up in cheering for her in spite of knowing nothing about the sport, how enthralled he'd been to the point of looking up the rules of it so that he could follow her matches. And the fact that he'd admired her and followed her career for years before she'd even met him for the first time, and more than simply admired her when they'd curled and trained for the same Club.
It was crazy how she'd had so many naysayers in her life, people who'd set up barriers…and it only took one good person to help her knock them all down.
She absolutely could make this shot.
She would make this shot.
And she did make it.
The moment she pushed off from the hack and let the stone go, she knew, watching it travel fast down the ice as Anna and Lou listened to Jane's instructions while they swept. Just like that, her shooter smacked into the red rock, careening it into the yellow rock on the button. There was a loud thunk as the South Korean rock she'd hit first slid out of the side of the house, while the South Korean rock that had been on the button sailed out of the back, leaving the U.S. rock on the button, with a second rock at the front of the house from before. Two points for Team U.S.A.
And the gold medal.
-oooo-
She stayed as calm as possible as she shook hands with everyone on the South Korean team, even hugging Choi for a long moment. Both of their teams had made history today.
But after she signed off on the win, a big win, the biggest win of her life, Sarah Walker absolutely lost her mind.
Almost as one, all four of them slammed together in a clumsy, happy, teary hug. Or maybe she was the only one crying. She didn't know. She couldn't see through the tears, because the floodgates had opened and they were just flowing down her face. Cameras were everywhere, flashes in their faces, but she just didn't care. She held onto her teammates even harder, not even sure which arm was around who. She just squeezed whomever it was tighter.
"Oh my God!" she heard Lou sob. "Oh my God!"
Jane was laughing.
And when they finally broke apart, Sarah just stood there, her hands clasped over her mouth, tears still running down her cheeks, beaming like…well, like she'd just won a gold medal in the sport that had legitimately given her life. Purpose.
Suddenly Beckman was there and Sarah was engulfed in yet another group hug, with their coach sandwiched in the middle.
They broke off again and she found Diane hugging just her then, so tightly that she nearly couldn't breathe. But instead of saying anything, she just hugged her back, clinging, rocking back and forth as she laughed, the tears still coming.
Her coach pulled back just enough to laugh, using one hand to wipe some tears of her own from her cheek. "How's that back, Walker?"
Sarah cracked up, pushing her hands through her hair in utter disbelief. God, this was real. And just to make sure, she reached out and grabbed Jane's arm. "Is this real?" she gasped when her friend turned to look at her.
"Yep!"
They laughed together and hugged. And then Jane stepped back and grabbed her wrist, tugging her off of the ice. "Girls!" she said over her shoulder. "We gotta go give it to our fans!"
Sarah's eyes widened. She knew they must be so puffy, her cheeks red and tear-stained, her hair a mess. And she was sweating in spite of being surrounded by ice. "Jane…"
But she just got a mischievous look thrown at her for trying.
And Lou and Anna were right behind them.
Sarah watched as Jane climbed up the stairs to the coach's table, then climbed on the railing that separated Beckman from the crowd behind her. "Jane! We aren't allowed to—"
"Shut up, Walker!"
Jane was hugging the person who'd been right in front of her when she leapt over the railing, which was Casey. He had the biggest grin on his face Sarah'd ever seen.
"Fuck it," Lou murmured, following Jane's lead. Anna went right along with her. And Sarah silently thought her own Fuck it. She'd just won a gold medal. She was doing this. She clambered over the railing herself.
A hand closed over hers, helping her carefully step back down on the other side without face-planting. And then she was in Devon's embrace. "That was so awesome!" he belted in her ear. "Sar, I'm real proud of you!"
"Thank you, Captain Awesome!" she breathed. As she stepped back, she took a quick glance over her shoulder. Cameras were still on them. And the mics were probably still on, as well. Shit. Oh, well. She lunged for Ellie who was laughing and crying all at once. And then Morgan who was basically just screaming, "You did it! You did it!" over and over again.
And then Tyler bear hugged her from behind and the other guys basically dog-piled her, one of them, she had no clue who, kissed her on the cheek.
And the more people she hugged, the more she was congratulated, the more she wanted Chuck. She could see him hanging back out of the corner of her eye and she wondered if he wanted her in his arms even half as much as she wanted it.
Finally, she escaped one last tight, excited hug from Morgan…
Chuck practically hip checked his best friend to get to her, sending him sprawling into his seat. And then he gathered her up in his arms, enveloping her in his embrace, and she just clung, trying so hard not to cry but failing.
"Knew this was gonna happen," he murmured in her ear, not seeming like he was going to let go anytime soon. But cameras were pointed at them, flashes from all over the arena were going off. She couldn't say what she wanted to say. She couldn't kiss him the way she wanted to kiss him.
She'd have to save that for later.
Right now, she just let herself cry in his arms, wetting his jacket with her tears, resisting the urge to bury her face under his chin and just stay there forever. She felt a subtle tug at her shirt and knew she had to let go. It was probably either Jane or Ellie trying to remind her how many eyes were watching, how many ears were listening.
So she oh so slowly peeled herself away from Chuck Bartowski. The look on his face read very clearly 'Please don't go' and she was dying on the inside, even as he quickly replaced the look with pride and blatant happiness.
"Proud of you, Blondie," he teased.
She had to literally grab onto Jane behind her and physically force herself not to pounce on him. She could see how proud he was, that he was bursting with it. "Thanks, Curls."
And then she was whisked away and the women climbed back down to the coach's table and headed down the stairs to the ice again, grabbing their things and waving at the crowd as they finally went into the tunnel.
Sarah's entire being was singing. She was so proud. Of her teammates, of her coaches, of her country.
And she was proud of herself.
She knew better than anyone how much she'd worked for this, how hard she'd strained, how many sacrifices she'd made. And she knew how many people she'd had to ignore, cut away from her existence, and prove wrong to get where she was now. An Olympic gold medalist in curling. It would go so well with that bronze she had from mixed doubles with Chuck.
Thank God that mic was finally picked off of her shirt, because Jane chose that moment to sling her arm over her shoulders and murmur. "Think you hugged that boy long enough?"
"Honestly, I could've used another hour or so."
Jane laughed. "Uh, you looked that way. And so many people got pictures of it."
Sarah just shook her head, not having a response to that. So what? So she hugged Chuck for longer than she did anyone else? So she cried harder in his embrace than she had in anyone else's? So she maybe even sobbed a little?
He just understood better than…well, anyone, didn't he? Because he knew things other people didn't. He knew about those insecurities that had left Sarah mentally crippled, the emotional barriers she'd told him briefly about. Her fears and worries. How nervous she'd been. He knew she'd overcome all of that. And being in his arms had made it all come full circle in some weird way. So she'd sobbed.
And maybe the whole world had gotten front row seats to it.
Oh, well…
Anyway, it wasn't like she'd kissed the hell out of him the way she'd wanted to. And God, she'd wanted to so badly.
"Sarah!"
Oh, God no. Please not now.
Eileen Ferrell zoomed in from the side holding her microphone, cameraman following behind her. She was too emotionally raw for this. She was perpetually on the verge of crying, that horrible bubble in her chest.
"Sarah, Jane, Anna, Lou…the first United States team in Olympic history to win a gold medal in the sport of curling. How are you ladies feeling right now?"
Sarah realized her teammates were all crowding in next to her."Like we've just won a gold medal!" Lou burst out, and they laughed.
"I think it's safe to say you've all worked pretty hard for this. What does it mean to you, knowing you've just made history for your country?" Eileen asked, and Sarah found the mic pointed at her.
Jane nudged her a bit and she giggled, shaking her head, her eyes welling with tears again. Damn it.
"I, uh…" She sniffed. "I don't know if there are words to describe just how big this is for me, for all four of us. We have all worked so hard." She let out a half sob and covered her mouth in embarrassment. Her teammates just stepped in closer, their arms around her. "We've all had our own struggles, and curling means so much to us. This sport, this event…the fact that we're even at the Olympics, let alone that we've just won gold…I can't even string words together to form a sentence." She let out a wet laugh and wiped at her cheeks with one hand. "Our opponents in this tournament were so tough and we really had to work hard and think outside the box and do this as a team." She nearly broke down again and Eileen seemed to take a bit of pity on her finally, moving the mic from her to Jane.
"Jane, you've been curling professionally for a while now…"
"Hey, now. Not that long. You better watch it," she teased, making everyone laugh.
"What does it mean for you to be here, with these women, winning this tournament?"
"It means the world to me. I have to tell you, no other team but this one could've beat the best curling teams in the world the way the four of us did. It had to be this group. I truly believe that."
"Sarah, you've been through quite a bit, breaking up with your partner, getting thrown together with someone else, having to train for the Olympics through all of this in the meantime… Does this medal make all of that worth it?"
The implications of everything Eileen just said hit Sarah hard then. And the tears she'd been trying so hard to keep at bay began to rush down her cheeks yet again. She couldn't even get a word out, she was so emotional. All she could do was sob a quick, "Yes", an "I'm sorry", and then she ducked away from the view of the camera so that the rest of the team could continue the interview.
She found herself in Graham's strong embrace then, off to the side where the camera wasn't pointing, and she just cried as he held her. It was a cry she'd needed for a while now. The intense, powerful happiness mixed with the knowledge of everything she'd gone through to get here, and the fact that she was a gold medal winning Olympian now. She could do this. She did do it.
She'd proven it to everyone.
Most of all, she'd proven it to herself.
A/N: Can I be real with you folks? I cried a little bit writing all of that. True story. And I don't typically do that for stuff I'm writing myself. I think it's a testament to how deep these characters in this story have gotten into my blood. Phew.
Still a few more chapters left, though. It's not over yet! Love you folks!
-SC