xXXXx

"So memories are stored in the medial temporal lobe, but emotions are centered in the eh-mig… what did you call it?"

"The amygdala," Ellie replied to Morgan.

Sarah added, "Ellie thinks the separate regions for emotions and memories might be why I've been able to recover the feelings that had formed during the past five years while my memories of that time still elude me."

The group had gathered in the dining area, with Ellie sitting at the head of the table and Chuck and Sarah sitting on the sides across from each other. Devon stood near Ellie holding Clara against his shoulder while Morgan leaned against the wall behind Sarah.

Ellie turned to Chuck. "I've been thinking about Dad's Intersect notes, my additional research on it, and the tests we ran on Morgan after he had the corrupted version. The Intersect is able to graft images into the subject's mind almost as though they are the subject's own visual memories and alter the subject's memory recall abilities so he, or she, experiences eidetic memory recall –photographic visualization– of those images if exposed to the correct stimuli.

"The Intersect does not seem to directly augment or alter emotional content. Any sort of emotional response you had to flashes was simply your own nature reacting to what images the Intersect supplied you.

"The deleterious side effect of the corrupted Intersect that Morgan and then Sarah had is a gradual disruption of the ability to recall one's own memories. Where the versions you had, modulated by Dad's governor, left your ability to recall your memories unaffected, the corrupted Intersect appears to contaminate those pathways –like cholesterol slowly building up on a blood vessel wall– adding more and more with each successive flash until the pathways are effectively clogged. That tangentially affects the the related emotions–"

Morgan interrupted, "Why I became so douchey?"

Ellie sighed and looked at Morgan, "Yes, why you became more douchey."

"More?" Morgan asked quietly. Chuck watched his sister give an impish grin to Morgan to let him know she was teasing.

"But as we're seeing with Sarah, the 'blockage' on emotions caused by the corrupted Intersect is weaker, more susceptible to being overwhelmed with strong enough stimuli, as the Intersect was never designed to deliver emotional content or interact with that part of the brain."

"Ok," Chuck said, "What I'm hearing is that you believe Sarah's memories are blocked. Not lost. I mean, they have to be there, right? When she rearranged the cup stacks at the Berlin Weinerlicious it wasn't because she had run into Scooter and reminisced about shop inventory controls. Or her remembering Irene Demova to save General Beckman from Quinn's bomb, that had to be Sarah remembering that from our first evening together when we saved General Stanfield and a banquet hall full of people from being blown up." Chuck's eyes drifted from Ellie to Sarah and he looked wonderingly at Sarah. "The evening when I was sure I had lucked into a date with the most stunning, bewitching woman I had ever met." Sarah slightly blushed at those words. Morgan let out an "Ah."

"Who is Scooter? Irene?" asked Ellie.

Chuck's gaze stayed on Sarah. "Scooter was Sarah's manager at the Weinerlicious. Irene Demova is a porn star and the namesake of an old computer virus."

"Oh, Irene Demova," sighed Morgan.

Chuck had not taken his eyes off Sarah as he answered Ellie, watching Sarah for a reaction. She smiled, seemed slightly amused, but her eyes were asking questions, not announcing recollection.

Ellie asked Sarah, "Is that right, both the Weinerlicious task and the, um, porn virus came back to you?"

Sarah's head partly turned towards Ellie as she began to answer, but she was looking sidelong at Chuck, clearly aware that he was staring intently at her. "Yes, and no. I started reordering the cup stacks without a thought about what I was doing. Chuck recognized it. I didn't, and couldn't put my finger on why I knew what to do with the cups. I still can't remember working at the shop. For the computer virus, the name seemed to spring into my mind when I saw the laptop computer controlling the bomb."

"An old Prism Express," said Chuck. Again he studied Sarah. Nothing.

"But nothing else," Sarah continued. "Nothing more about that first night with Chuck when I apparently learned of the computer virus."

Ellie was silent for a while, her eyes unfocused as she mulled this latest information. Everyone waited quietly. She finally spoke. "Interesting, both procedural memories and reportorial memories came back to you. Admittedly only fragments, lacking their context, but still that's encouraging."

Chuck fished in the cargo pocket of the shorts he was wearing, pulled out a clamshell case, and placed it on the table. "Will this help?" He asked. Everyone's eyes were on the case as he opened it to reveal the Intersect suppression device inside. "General Beckman left this with me in case I no longer wanted the Intersect in my head." He removed it from its case and turned it over and over in his hands. "Maybe I should ask, Will this hurt? If Sarah tries suppressing the Intersect, which she may no longer have, could the attempt harm her?"

"Sarah recounted your conversation about her experiences with the Intersect, and she and I talked about it, too, and I agree, I don't believe she still has it. I think something Quinn did short-circuited it. As for the contamination it left behind, I don't think the suppression device will help –it wasn't designed to remove the contamination because the contamination wasn't supposed to be there. The bug in the corrupted Intersect is responsible for that. But I also don't think attempting it will harm Sarah. There's no guarantees with any of this, but I'm fairly confident about that from the work I've done to understand the Intersect."

Chuck looked at Sarah. She gave him a nod and held out her hand. Chuck pointed, "Here is the activation button. Press that once you are wearing it." He handed her the device and she slid them over her eyes, then pressed the button. Chuck's hands balled into fists. He did not believe it would work, but he hoped –he prayed– nonetheless. Please work.

After several moments Sarah slowly removed the device, the sequence done, and handed it back to Chuck. He accepted, placed it in its case, and looked into her eyes. She frowned and shook her head. "I don't feel any different."

"Well, we should test it," Ellie said. "Sarah, do you remember–"

"Wait, Ellie." Sarah cut in. "Chuck and I spoke a lot on the beach yesterday. He told me so much of our story."

"Understood. Chuck, how about you ask a question? Something you didn't tell Sarah and that she wouldn't have likely learned in these last couple of weeks, but that she'd certainly remember if her memories were intact."

"Sure," Chuck said. "Hmmm." Chuck's eye caught Morgan behind Sarah. "Oh, I got it. Sarah, who officiated our wedding?" Morgan, still against the wall behind Sarah levered his body to move off it and leaned slightly towards her. Chuck fought the urge to look again at his friend, but he could tell from his peripheral vision that Morgan was staring intensely at Sarah as though he was trying to transmit the answer from his head to hers.

Sarah closed her eyes. She pressed her lips together. A moment passed. Another. Her eyes opened, and they were moist. Chuck could see the sadness in them. "I don't know."

"Ah, man," said Morgan softly with a sigh.

"It was Morgan." Chuck said flatly, yet anger roared in him like rapids after a heavy storm. He looked at the suppression device in its case and he fought back the urge to smash it, punish it for having anything to do with the Intersect.

Chuck's mind raced. That damn Intersect. (But it brought Sarah to you in the first place.) And it took her from me. (But she's back now.) Yes, but how is it fair that Quinn wins, stealing from Sarah five years of the amazing woman she is, of remembering how we both grew together and fell in love? (...) Tell me! (...)

Sarah had turned her head to look over her shoulder at Morgan and had missed the pall that had blanketed Chuck's face. "Morgan, are you a minister or something?" She asked.

"According to the Intergalactic Federation of Planets, I am. I also was your limo driver."

"Did you cater it, too?" There was a hint of sadness in Sarah's facetious tone.

"Nah. If I had, there definitely would have been pigs-n-blankets."

Sarah turned back to Chuck. He tried to hide his frustration, but it was clear she saw. She reached her hand across the table and worked her fingers into his hand to open it –his hands were balled fists again– to take it into hers. Again she interlaced her fingers with his, forming a small bridge on the table between them. Sarah seemed to sense the question that Chuck couldn't voice. She asked, "Ellie, is there anything else we can try? Anything?"

"Well, every indication is that your memories are still with you, intact, and that the pathways to them are, too, just impassable right now, or nearly so. A strong stimulus –my brother's kiss– was the solution for regaining access to your emotions. Some other strong, significant stimulus might do the same for your memories. I have to stress 'might.' The right stimulus might be elusive, if indeed there is one." Ellie looked dolefully at Chuck, then back to Sarah. "You may never get your memories back."

Chuck's lips pressed into a tight flat line. In his mind's eye Quinn's visage swirled into view. You lied to her! Quinn was silent. You used her! Quinn's only response was a growing smug smile.

Chuck stood up and began walking down the hallway that led to the bedrooms.

Sarah called after him, "Chuck?"

"I'm fine." Chuck knew he sounded anything but fine. "I just need a moment."

~oOo~

Chuck stood in his old bedroom, picturing how it had once looked. Some good memories here. He smiled bitterly at the thought. He heard the door open behind him and then his sister was by his side. She put her hand on his back and gave it a few rubs. "Sorry, Sis, I just needed a moment to try to clear my head."

Ellie moved her hand to Chuck's shoulder and spoke softly, "Do you remember what I said to you the other morning? I said, 'You can't force Sarah to remember, but emotions, feelings are powerful things.' You've already seen that. Quinn's wickedness couldn't keep Sarah's feelings for you or any of us buried. It may just be a matter of finding something else emotionally powerful for her to have another breakthrough. Think: After you, who is the most important person to come into Sarah's life since moving here?"

Chuck thought for a moment. "Her mom. And Molly. My gosh, Sarah doesn't know about any of that. At least I don't think she does. I didn't tell her about them at the beach." Chuck shook his head in disbelief. "I was so focused on telling her how we fell in love and everything that led up to our marriage."

"I didn't want to say anything out there, not knowing what you two may have already discussed. If Sarah doesn't know, I think she should hear it from you." Ellie turned Chuck to face her and gave him a smile. "Speak to her about her mom and Molly and get them together. Don't give up hope, little brother, she may regain her memories still."

Chuck embraced his sister. "Thanks, El. I've been on such a rollercoaster I can barely think straight. That plan might work."

Without a word yet on the same wavelength, the two turned to walk out of the room and rejoin the others. Buzz. Chuck, on auto-pilot, pulled his phone out and looked. The message from the realtor read: "Good news, the house is still on the market." Make that two plans I've got.

xXXXx

A/N: If you are wondering, the realtor had arrived at work in the morning a little late. After working through some messages and follow ups she had from the day prior, she listened to a voicemail from Charles Bartowski, who was speaking rapidly –something about only having a couple minutes while his wife showered. Sure, the realtor had been peeved after previously loaning the house to this Charles Bartowski and his wife for a test drive only to learn afterwards that they had carved up some of the wood molding. The voicemail jogged the realtor's memory that Mr. Bartowski had promised to pay for the repair and the realtor had said she'd talk to the absent owners to make arrangements. But the realtor now realized that she had become preoccupied with pricier properties that promised larger commissions and simply forgot to follow up, so the repair work had gone undone. Now, as far as the realtor was concerned, Mr. Bartowski's call was a godsend. Barely more than two weeks ago there had been a burglary at the house, which seemed strange given that the house had been vacant for some time. Stranger still was that apparently there had been shots fired. Gunshots! None of this boded well for selling the house. And when she had last spoken with the owners they indicated that getting details from the authorities about the break-in was proving surprisingly difficult, as though it was being swept under the rug. That didn't really matter to the realtor this morning, what mattered now was Mr. Bartowski's message asking about the house's availability, and, if the realtor was reading it correctly (and she usually did), that he seemed like a motivated buyer. She entered the cellular number he said she could text and sent him a message.

A/N2: For this chapter, I cribbed from WillieGarvin and Zettel to weave some relevant lingo into Ellie's description of the Intersect and Sarah's experience with the corrupted version. Any bad science is my fault, not theirs. (Hey, it's "Chuck," bad science is par for the course.) If you're passionate about "Chuck" fanfic as a reader, writer or both, I recommend you check out the "Chuck Fanfiction" group on Facebook. You'll find a great community there.