I don't own Chuck
"Ask him what he thinks about Pueblo," Sarah told Chuck as she drove down the road. It was day two of their three day trip to Fort Carson. Chuck had pointed out they could be there in two days, if not one, if it was that important. Casey snorted and said no one had the type of resistance training necessary to put up with him in the car for two days for that much time, much less three.
Chuck had asked Sarah about that later, in their room, but she just shook her head. Chuck swore she saw a grin on her face and a bit of color on her neck, but he had to be imagining things, right?
"Should I call him, because if I text him, he'll have to read the text," Chuck pointed out. "And, while it's safe for me to text, since you're driving, it's not for him." Sarah twisted her lips to the side, and shook her head. "What?"
"Never change, Chuck," she said softly. There was a soft smile on her face as she glanced at him. "Yeah, call him."
Chuck smiled back and called Casey. As the phone rang, he thought about the past twenty-four plus hours. After the uncomfortable remembrance of his flash, things seemed to be better between him and Sarah.
He tried several times that night to figure out a way to bring up what had happened in the car, but Sarah had distracted him by asking him who was a better superhero, Spider-Man or Batman and the next thing he knew he was in an intense conversation about people using their gifts for good after a horrific loss.
Sarah pointed out he was much like both of them. Instead of concentrating on the bad, he had taken the Intersect and tried to find a way to help people, specifically her. He hadn't known how to argue that point. As they went to bed, still discussing Bruce Wayne using his money to fight crime, Chuck noticed that Sarah didn't say much, more of a sentence here or there to get him going and then she just listened.
She wasn't bored, or uninterested, she seemed to be enjoying his enthusiasm. She did ask him if she could cuddle against him since last night had kept the nightmares away, which stunned Chuck. "Numbnuts, you called me," Casey growled into the phone, yanking Chuck out of his thoughts.
"How do you feel about staying in Pueblo?" Chuck asked.
Casey grunted. "Makes sense, let's us set up nearby, but not in their net, although, a lot of Pueblo's business comes from the base."
"So is that a no?" Chuck asked.
"No, I like it," Casey replied. "The only other real option is to go to Denver, an hour past the base, and I'm not sure we want to be in any more big cities than we need to be."
"Got it," Chuck responded.
"I'll take care of securing us a place there tonight when we stop," Casey said, and then hung up.
"So Pueblo?" Sarah asked.
"Yep," Chuck told her. He was silent for a moment. "Can I ask you something?" There was silence in the car for a few seconds.
"Yeah," Sarah replied finally. It was like she was steeling herself.
"Is there anything more I can do to help with the nightmares?" he asked. He was looking at her as he asked, and saw her whip her head toward him, shock on her face.
"No," Sarah said, a grateful smile on her face. She turned back to the road.
"If talking would help, I hope you know I won't judge you in any way over it," he told her. He turned back and stared out the window, watching the scenery go by.
"What if I've killed someone that we need to solve this thing, Chuck?" she asked in a soft voice. Chuck turned to her. Her mask was slipping. The mask she hid behind had been slipping and slipping ever since they had begun this trip. "I've killed people in the states, but what if there were some that I killed that we needed to talk to, for evidence?"
"Say all of what's worrying you," he told her.
She didn't say anything for several minutes, and Chuck had just about given up thinking that she was going to when she spoke. "What if someone I killed here was innocent?"
"Then a power hungry bastard used you," Chuck told her. She sighed. "Sarah, you're not evil." She snorted. "You're not!" Chuck insisted, making her eyes widen. "And I'm going to keep on telling you, and showing you, until you believe it."
"Okay, so let's agree, for the sake of this argument, you're right, what do I do about the fact I may have eliminated leads for us?"
Chuck started to speak, but then didn't. He wasn't sure how to say what needed to be said without sounding terrible and making her feel worse. "Just say it, I've already thought everything you may be thinking."
"I was going to say, do you remember the names of those you killed here, but I've seen the list, Sarah, and I don't say this to be an ass, but there's a lot," Chuck told her.
Sarah nodded. "Eugene Reynolds. Claude Dubois. Illana Guy-"
"What are you doing?" Chuck asked.
"Reciting the names of each person I killed," Sarah said softly.
"Oh, God," Chuck muttered. "Sarah…I'm…God, Sarah."
"It's who I am, Chuck," Sarah said softly. "No matter what I do for the rest of my life, it will never be enough to wipe the slate clean for what I've done." She shook her head, and wiped at an eye. "Never enough."
Chuck reached over and took the hand that had wiped her eye and squeezed it. She glanced at him. "All you can do, is do what you can with the time in front of you. You aren't competing with anyone, except yourself, and you need to stop. You did what you thought was right. Graham is responsible for every name on that list, not you. You are carrying his sins, his baggage, and if you insist on it, then I am going to help you. I'm going to take that baggage, and we'll go through it, figuring out who was legit, and who was done for Graham."
"Chuck," she began.
"No, because every one we find that had been killed for some reason that makes no sense, helps us build a case and find a point to look into…to dig deeper," Chuck told her.
"Okay," Sarah said, nodding.
"And Sarah, I'm here because you said enough. I'm here because in the moment you realized what was going on, you said enough. So the only never enoughing that is to be done around here, is me thanking you for saving my life." She gave him a sad smile, but held onto his hand as they drove on in silence.