A/N Leader is ready. Are we? Is Leader really ready?

Thanks for reading and responding. Talk to me, gentle readers. Our time together nears its end. Remember, other than the thrill of creation, my only profits are your responses.

Don't own Chuck. No money made.


CHAPTER 53 Reft


Batman, the hero of hell, plots the ruin of New York.

Thomas Merton, Cable to the Ace 46


Sarah knocked gently on Emma's door. It was early, barely light.

"Mom?" Sarah kept her voice down. She could hear Molly making giggling and gurgling noises; she was awake. Sarah's spy senses had been on high alert the last couple of days. She had heard Molly across the hallway.

There was no answer, so she opened the door quietly. Emma was still asleep. Molly was holding herself up on the edge of the crib, making noises to herself. When she saw Sarah, she smiled and put out her arms. She started to wobble. Sarah crossed the intervening space in a flash and had her in her arms before she fell back on the bed.

"Gotcha, little girl. Balance still not quite mastered, huh? I'm really good at that kind of thing. As you get older, I will help you. We'll both take classes with my friend, Alex."

Sarah saw Emma wake up and turn over.

"Stay in bed, Mom. I've got her."

Sarah took Molly into the kitchen. They had bought a high chair for Molly to eat in on the drive back from the visit to Jill. Sarah put Molly in the chair and gathered up some food. She gave Molly some finger foods and began to warm cereal.

Chuck walked in, yawning. Sometimes Sarah forgot just how tall he was, how truly lanky. When he stretched to yawn, his arms out and up, he practically filled the kitchen. Sarah felt herself react. Maybe she could act on that later. But now it was time for breakfast.

Chuck started the coffee. He leaned against the counter and watched Sarah spoon warm cereal into Molly's mouth as the coffee maker giggled and gurgled, an electronic imitation of Molly's earlier noises. It was lucky Sarah was such a good shot, as Molly's mouth was a rapidly moving, and rapidly opening and closing target.

"How are you doing, Sarah? So much change in so little time..."

"I'm ok, Chuck. My spy senses seem to be working overtime. I think it's that I have been so used to being under pressure, on a mission, monitoring everyone and especially myself, but now that I can…relax a bit, it's like I can't turn them off. They woke me up early."

"Sounds sort of like how things used to go for me when I would take some vacation days. I'd always spend the first few days still in work mode. It never seemed like I could relax, really begin to vacation, until the last few days of my vacation."

"That may be it. You are right; this is a big adjustment for me. But I really am ok—better than ok, even if I do feel like I'm sprinting to catch up with my own life. It's a life worth catching up with, Chuck."

"Sarah, I know I've never really asked you this explicitly, and I know I should have. We've touched on it here and there but never really hashed it out. I believe I know how you feel, but I don't want to make assumptions. I thought about asking in Vegas, but things went their own way there." He sighed and looked at his ring.

"…Let's suppose we find a way to end this, find a way to deal with the Fulcrum and the Intersect—are you going to be able to let the CIA go? Or are you going to want to remain an agent? What do you want? Do you know? I didn't ask in Vegas because I knew that I just want to be with you. And I will be with you whatever you choose. Normal is overrated. Real is what matters. Making you happy is what makes me happy."

"I was done with the CIA when I kissed you in front of what we thought was a bomb, Chuck. Oddly enough, it was Carina who convinced me of that." Chuck's look was dubious: Carina?

Sarah nodded and continued. "I'm only still in the CIA because of you and your family, because of the Intersect. If we find a way to end this, I resign. End of story. I've already written the letter; it's in the desk there if you want to see it. I just haven't put a date on it yet. I'm looking forward to doing that. I should have told you—but I believed you would be happy with it. I am."

Chuck grinned at her and walked out of the kitchen. He went the door and grabbed his bag, hanging on the coat rack by the door. He dug out a manila folder and handed it to her. Inside was a small stack of papers, paper-clipped together. On the front of the first was this:

Virtual/Reality Investigations

Security and Cybersecurity

The lettering of the logo was reminiscent of Chuck's Tron poster. She scanned the pages. It was the beginning of a business plan for a combined detective and cybersecurity agency. She and Chuck would run the business together.

"You'd be in charge of the detective side—and of any bad guy-ery we run into on the cyber side. I'll be in charge of the cyber side—and of any electronics or computers or communications you need on the detective side. We could put the Piranha and Agent Walker to use. I want to ask Casey to join us. We won't do any sleazy stuff, divorces, cheaters, you know. We will pick and choose. I think we'll be that good."

Sarah looked up from the papers. She gazed with admiration at Chuck.

"Well, baby, what do you think? We could be like Alfred Hitchcock's Three Investigators?"

She grabbed Chuck and pulled him into a massive hug, pressing her body against the entire length of him, all she could reach.

"You saw those books and remembered? The other little girls made fun of me for loving them, but I did. I like this plan, Chuck."


Stephen had Bryce sitting up in the hospital bed. Ellie was there too. They wheeled Bryce's table over and put a laptop on it. Ellie had attached various electrodes and other devices to Bryce. Stephen was typing on the computer. After a moment, Ellie nodded at Stephen. Stephen turned to Bryce, turning the computer toward Bryce too.

"Bryce, I am sure that what was done to you was done in stages. The basic program was done when you were in Fulcrum's charge, as you recovered from your wounds. When they realized you did not have the Intersect, they—forgive the phrase—turned you into a Trojan Horse of sorts. They were going to use you one way or the other, and use Jill to complete the programming and control you.

"I suspect you were Fulcrum's first 'live' attempt to create an unwitting double agent. They got incredibly lucky, got their wish when Graham chose to use you to lead the Intersect team. But they had to wait until the stages of the programming were completed. Jill had not counted on your…feelings for her and the way they ended up complicating her control of you.

"I mention this because I don't want you to expect too much today. If what Ellie and I have done works, you will feel a change. It may be hard to describe: say, you will feel like you are more in control of your conscious focus, not so easily…distracted. If it works, then we will repeat the procedure every day until you feel normal again. At that point, we will run some more tests and determine if we are truly finished."

Bryce nodded, his eyes hopeful. "Sounds good. Thanks, you two."

Ellie went and turned off the light. Stephen adjusted the computer in front of Bryce once more and then 'Enter' and stepped back. Colors played across Bryce's' face for a while, his eyes moving rapidly back and forth or up and down. The colors stopped and Bryce's eyes rolled back in his head. He slumped down.

That did not panic Stephen. Ellie too took it in stride. They had expected it. Ellie clicked the light back on and Stephen closed the laptop. They stood together expectantly beside the bed. After a minute or two, Bryce spasmed. He did it again. Then he opened his eyes. He looked at Stephen and Ellie. Ellie leaned toward him and looked closely into his eyes. She then told him to close them for a minute or two. She went and looked at the monitors she had attached to Bryce before the test. She seemed satisfied.

"How do you feel, Bryce?"

It took Bryce a minute to answer. He had looked around his room and at Ellie and at his own hands.

"Clearer. Like some of the fog has lifted. I think it worked—working, anyway." Bryce smiled a large, happy smile—but with none of his old brashness.

Stephen smiled. "Very good, very, very good. Just rest for a while. We consult with you again in a little while. Is Carina coming?"

"Yes." Ellie turned to Stephen. "What do you think?"

"I think we took the first step to curing Bryce and the first step to curing your mother."

Ellie suppressed her squeal in deference to patients but did nothing to lessen the violence of the hug she gave her dad.

"We'll know more soon. Let's leave him alone until Carina gets here."


Carina showed up a little while later. Stephen and Ellie met her.

"We want you to go in and talk to him. It doesn't matter what, really, but it would be best if you could make it about something emotional.

"We will be watching and listening but he won't know it. There is in the room, not normally on, but it is now. We aren't trying to fool him; we just want to see his unvarnished reactions when he is not trying to gild them to please himself or us. He's still hooked to the machines. We will get readings from them after you've talked. We aren't trying to pry into his secrets, we just need to know about his reactions."

Carina nodded her understanding. Stephen and Ellie went into the room next door.

They sat down in front of a monitor that showed Bryce in his room.

"Hey, Bryce, how are you?"

Carina asked the question as she cruised into the room.

Bryce was quick to smile. "Good. Better now. You look terrific. But it's been a good day so far. Stephen and Ellie—you've met them?" Carina said she had. "They did the first stage of the deprogramming or reprogramming or whatever it is. I think it helped. I haven't been drifting as much before, at least not so far…"

"That's such good news, big boy!"

He looked concerned. "How about you? How are you?"

Carina glanced nervously around the room. If she wasn't careful, Bryce would tell her secret without knowing he had done so.

"Uh, I'm fine, Bryce. Let's not talk about me. Has the programming or whatever had any effect your feelings…for Jill?"

Bryce frowned. He had not expected that topic to come up. Carina had been willing to talk about it when he mentioned it, but she had not really initiated talk about Jill. Bryce decided to roll with it.

"I can't tell about that. But, as I've said, I don't think my feelings for Jill were exactly part of the programming. Maybe the Fulcrum programming affected them in some way, but I know it didn't create them. The feelings predated the programming.

"…But I will say that mentioning her…just now, as we have…has not caused me to drift out, or get confused, or foggy, or whatever it used to do to me. I can say her name without knotting up mentally. That seems like progress.

"But how about you? Have you made a decision yet? Are you going to keep...?"

"Bryce!" Carina said it more sharply than she wanted to. "Let's not talk about me, not right now."

Bryce looked hurt but nodded his head. Carina felt a rush of annoyance with herself. He hadn't done anything wrong.

She extracted herself from the conversation on the pretext of getting some Bryce some coffee and herself some herbal tea.

After she left Bryce's room, she stopped to talk to Stephen and Ellie. Stephen seemed wholly engrossed in the readings and in notes he was taking. Ellie glanced up at Carina and then took her by the elbow.

"I could use some coffee."


As they walked down the grey, shiny hallway, Ellie leaned closer to Carina. "I know we don't know each other well, Carina, but we share a friend, Sarah. Does she know?"

"Know what?"

"That you are pregnant?"

"How did you know?" A shadow crossed Carina's face. Damn. Gave herself away. Some undercover agent she was.

"Doctor, remember?" Ellie said, pointing at herself.

"Does your dad know?"

"God, no. For all his gifts, he's oblivious to this sort of thing. He's in that room, thinking in numbers and equations—all about Bryce. Your secret is safe with me."

Carina decided immediately that she liked this Bartowski woman. Direct. No bullshit. Maybe they could be friends? If Sarah liked her, and she knew Sarah did, Carina was willing to bet she would.

They got to the hospital coffee shop and stood in line, talking about Sarah and Chuck and—more quietly, once they were seated—about the early stages of pregnancy and the rigors of planning a wedding. They grabbed a coffee for Bryce before they left the shop and headed back to his room.


Chuck and Sarah left Castle, heading to see Bryce, Ellie, and Stephen at the hospital.

The afternoon had been frustrating. The satellite that they hoped to use to gather some intel on Jill's house had not gotten its cameras refocused in time. They would have to wait for another satellite to get into position. The drones made two passes, but their intel was ambiguous. It seemed like there was evidence consistent with Sarah's hunch, but nothing conclusive.

Beckman and Sarah had worked on those problems, with Chuck checking in occasionally. He was working on his own problem, trying to take the work his dad had done for Bryce and to project it forward into something that might help him get the Intersect out of his head. So far, he had not made much progress. He had some ideas—but he needed Stephen and Ellie to bounce them off of.

He also took a few minutes to work more on the business plan he showed Sarah. He was so excited about it that he was having a hard time not giving it his full attention. But there were things that needed to happen before that plan would be something they could pursue.


At one point, when he had the plan out, Beckman walked up behind him. He'd been so engrossed he missed her approach. She looked over his shoulder at it. She walked away, a complicated, thoughtful look in her eyes.


When they arrived, Bryce, tired of being the center of attention, had asked for some time himself, time to nap. Stephen, Ellie, and Carina were seated in the waiting room, talking about Bryce's condition. They brought Chuck and Sarah up to speed.

Stephen wanted to get back to Ellie's apartment. He was tired, he said, and tomorrow the wedding press was due to start. Devon's parents were supposed to arrive. He wanted to get some rest before he had to meet his daughter's in-laws-to-be. Ellie grinned at that. Sarah was missing Molly and already had presumed on Emma's good graces enough; she wanted to get home too.

Chuck wanted to talk to Bryce. Casey had just arrived. He could take Chuck and Ellie home. Sarah offered Stephen a ride.


The atmosphere in the Porsche thickened almost as soon as they got in it, reminiscent of the trip to Boulder City, if a little less physically crowded. Sarah was frustrated from the day and the lack of results, and when she saw Stephen glance at her; he may have meant nothing by it but it pissed her off.

"Stephen, I have tried to be patient. God knows I have tried to be patient. I know you are struggling with suspicions about me, " Sarah wheeled the car out into traffic, "but I have given you no reason to treat me like you have. No reason for the little looks and reactions and comments. Stop it. Now."

"But Sarah...your past."

"Did you actually look at it, consider it? Did you see that I have not been an agent-seductress, that I have not been willing to take on such missions? Why would that have changed suddenly with your son?

"I'm not denying that I have done things I am not proud of, things that wake me in a sickly sweat still. But I have confessed those things, the ones that have taken the greatest toll on me anyway, the ones that symbolized all the rest, to Chuck. He knows. I made sure he knew. You know I did this. You heard us talk about one of the letters I sent him.

"What would I really stand to gain from having done all that I have done? What more do I have now that I am his wife and we have Molly, that I couldn't have gotten just by seducing him? Why would I do all this? I will not ask these questions again. You either answer them, or you stop this."

Stephen turned and stared out the passenger window.

"Sarah, I keep redirecting my doubts about Mary onto you. I suspect that you know that.

"Doubt is corrosive. I've carried it around so long that it has eaten through me. It's eaten at everything. At some level, I know that my problem is not with you. But its like I'm on a psychological fireman's pole. I doubt Mary and then I slide down to doubting you."

"Stephen, if you can't get your doubts under control, you are going to end up alienating your son, maybe forever. We have fought for each other, Chuck and I, fought to be together. He wants you—I want you—to be happy for us.

"But your place in his life right now is fragile. I want it to be stronger. He wants his dad. It won't get stronger if you keep acting like the loud freshman guy (it's always a guy, I remember Harvard) in the Intro to Philosophy class who keeps intoning as if he's deep, 'But you can't prove the lectern is real!'

"But, look, Stephen, like that freshman guy needs to hear, sometimes your head tells you one thing while your whole life tells you another. Your whole life is going to win and it should. Are you going nurse some paper doubt at the cost of being a real father to your son?"

Pause. Sarah waited. Pause.

Stephen put up his hands, turned to her. He smiled at her—genuinely smiled at her. For once, his eyes were undarkened with disbelief. "Ok, ok, Mrs. Bartwoski. Daughter. I yield." He leaned over. He kissed her cheek. She blushed.

Sarah returned Stephen's smile. She felt like this was the moment when things changed. She felt buoyantly happy.

They were close to home.

She looked up at the van stopped ahead of her. She stopped behind it, waiting for it to turn.

Suddenly: the glass of the driver's window shattered.

Sarah turned in time to see a hand with a tranq gun. She heard it fire.

She heard the glass on the other side shatter and heard a second ppfftt sound of another tranq gun.

She was able to turn and look in the rearview mirror. A black van was behind her, one that matched the black van stopped ahead of her.

Her final thought as she lost consciousness was that her spy sense had stopped working overtime.


Chuck and Casey stood beside the abandoned Porsche, glass still on the street and in the seats. Casey had been talking to the policeman who found the car. The policeman had asked around the neighborhood. No one had seen anything.

Chuck kept chanting to himself internally: "There's no blood. There's no blood. No sign of injury."

He thought of Molly. He thought of Emma and Ellie and Devon. What would he say to them? Beckman wanted him back at Castle asap. He would have to call them from the car. It was almost dark.

He prayed Sarah's hunch was right. He prayed he knew where Leader was. Because if he did, he knew where his wife and his father were too.

Please mom, please, battle Leader. Keep them safe until I can get there.

He climbed into the Crown Vic with Casey, slammed the door, and they sped toward Castle.