A/N: The thick of things.

Jeux Sans Frontières

Chapter Twenty-Three: Hello, Goodbye

But still the warmth flows through me
And I sense you know me well
No luck, no golden chances
No mitigating circumstances now
It's only common sense
There are no accidents round here

I am willing, lay your hands on me
I am ready, lay your hands on me
I believe, lay your hands on me
Over me

— Peter Gabriel, Lay Your Hands on Me

Ellie was standing in the bathroom, not-looking at herself in the mirror.

Her heart thumped in her ears.

Sarah had cajoled Ellie into hiding in the bathroom. Sarah was certain Chuck would find them soon, certain he'd try to kill her, Sarah, as he had before. Up-close, a knife. Sarah had not explained her certainty but Ellie accepted it.

Ellie had done all she could to protect Sarah, to manipulate or redirect Chuck's distorted, programmed mind. But Ellie's plan essentially called for Sarah to offer herself as a sacrifice.

Sarah was willing — a willing sacrifice. Despite her prowess, she would not fight back. Ellie shook her head — she knew only one other person simultaneously so maddening and compelling as Sarah Walker. That other person was Chuck Bartowski.

Ellie considered the plan again, hoping to distract herself from her own pulse.

Calling it a plan is probably far too hopeful. It's half hunch, half pop psychology, half basic neurology. One too many halves. — At bottom, Ellie knew, the 'plan' was a leap of faith — faith in Chuck, faith that he could not be reduced to a program, his heart reduced to rubble. Sarah was leaping with Ellie.

Of course, Chuck had tried to kill Sarah once, but at the crucial moment, when she was at his mercy, when she put herself at his mercy, he stopped, ran.

Ellie was counting on that.

Sarah's story of the shower attack made it obvious that the scent of Brazilian Joia triggered Chuck. When Sarah told the story of dancing with Chuck, Sarah wearing the red wig, she remembered that she'd used Carina's shampoo to wash the wig. Sarah had taken the almost-empty bottle of shampoo when she took the dress from Carina's apartment.

That led Ellie to surmise that Chuck had not been triggered by the scent alone, but also by its association with the red-headed dancer. Chuck had always been sensitive to scent. The dancer and her dance had left a deep impression on Chuck — that also seemed obvious.

When Sarah told Ellie what she'd whispered into Chuck's ear that night as they danced, it seemed more obvious.

But Manoosh's programming suggested the final staging to Ellie.

Sarah told Ellie all the details about the appearance Sarah made in the game, in SpyCraft, about the black hair, what she — her character — said, and about what Chuck did. Chuck saved Sarah — her character — although he was not expected to do that, although manipulated by instruction and by the game not to do that.

At the crucial moment, even though he'd been playing a game, he saved Sarah — her character — and endangered himself — his character. "I can't leave you here. I can't."

In the end, saving her mattered more to Chuck than winning, than the game. Chuck, for all his love of games, was never all about winning.

The dialogue Manoosh gave Sarah — her character — helped too, particularly the line about dying while knowing Chuck lived. I wonder why he put that line in the game?

Ellie costumed Sarah to overwhelm Chuck with triggers, visual, olfactory, auditory. God, let it work! Ellie closed her eyes and blew out a breath long and slow.

Just then, as if a punctuation mark, — a knock at the door, an accompanying shout. Ellie whirled, grabbed the bathroom door, and yanked it open.

Sarah had opened the door. She stood in it wearing the short black dress Ellie bought her, her dyed black hair hanging down straight, her feet bare.

Chuck loomed over her, his eyes all wrong, a knife held, blade down, up above his head. Sarah spoke: "I want to die knowing you lived."

Chuck petrified, a statue, still, poised to kill, tensed to strike. And then he seemed to soften, to turn from stone to flesh.

At that moment, Sarah reached out to him, embraced him. He buried his face in her hair, closed his eyes; Sarah whispered in his ear. Ellie could not hear it but she knew the line. Sarah was repeating herself.

Chuck's eyes opened and came into focus, looked right, as he looked up, his face rising from Sarah's hair. He saw Ellie and she knew he knew her. With a scream, he fell.

Chuck and Sarah fell.

She broke his fall with her body.

Chuck's knife bounced on the carpet.

Ellie rushed forward to pick it up. She could see the thick black smear on the blade.

"Careful, Ellie!" Sarah said, her voice strangulated by Chuck's weight.

Ellie grabbed the knife's handle as Sarah rolled Chuck to the opposite side. A moment later, one of the garish, framed prints on the wall of the room exploded. Glass flew in every direction; the frame was suddenly crooked.

"Ellie, get down, shots!"

Sarah slammed the door with her foot and scrambled up. She got hold of Chuck's arms and dragged him deeper into the room. Ellie got on her hands and knees, dropping the knife. She could feel splinters of glass in her hands.

Sarah let go of Chuck and grabbed her gun from under the end of the mattress where she'd hidden it. The movement of the mattress toppled Sarah's purse onto the floor, spilling it.

"Get in the bathroom, Ellie!"

The window of the room made a cracking sound and plaster from the wall above Ellie showered down. She scrambled to the bathroom, ignoring the pain in her palms, her knees.

Alpha got out of the car and motioned for Lou to follow him.

Chuck was almost to the hotel room door. Alpha had his silenced gun in his hand, pressed against this leg. Lou had the tranq gun in her hand in a similar position.

Ahead, Chuck knocked on the door, then pressed himself to the side of the exterior.

The door opened and a black-haired, barefoot woman stood there. She was immediately hidden from view by Chuck, who whipped into the doorway, arm up.

But the arm did not come down. The woman grabbed him. No, she hugged him. He went limp and crashed forward into the room.

"Shit," Alpha hissed, "that's Walker." He fired.

The door slammed shut. He fired again and broke into a run for the door.

Lou ran behind him, her insides jumbled, sick. Alpha battering-rammed into the door with the shoulder of his empty hand. Lou knew Alpha's style: Blitzkrieg, Charlie once called it, shaking his head.

Wood splintered; someone screamed. Alpha followed the door into the room as bits of wood flew.

Ellie heard the door splinter, swing inward violently, slam into the heater. Still on her hands and knees, she screamed involuntarily.

A man plowed through the doorway behind the door. He raised his gun.

Sarah lifted her gun just as the man leveled his.

Ellie heard a shot and a spit. She bowed her head at the sound of the shot. When she looked up, she saw the man crumble to his knees. He looked down at his chest, at the carnation of red enlarging on it, and he tumbled face down to the ground, his final look disbelief.

"Damn."

Ellie looked at Sarah — it was Sarah who spoke. She had her hand on her side. Blood oozed between her fingers.

But Sarah was not looking at Ellie. She was looking out the door.

Lou saw Alpha kneel, pitch forward.

He'd outran her. She was a distance behind. A car roared into the parking lot and skidded to a stop in front of the hotel room door. Lou saw Casey and Carina. She saw Sarah looking at her from in the room.

She turned and began to race to the hatchback.

Carina saw the man crash into the hotel room door. It was the room Ellie said she and Sarah were using. Carina gunned the car, it dipped into the parking lot, dragging the undercarriage with a screech, and bouncing up.

Carina aimed the car at the open doorway and slammed on the brakes.

As the car skidded to a stop, a barefoot black blur barrelled past the front of the car. Carina looked, turned as it passed. Casey yelled. "Walker!" He pushed open his door.

Ellie saw Sarah glance at her.

Sarah shook her bloodied hand, glanced down at Chuck, and smiled sadly.

Outside, an engine roared. Tires screeched. Ellie heard Sarah hiss Palone — and then Sarah ran, bending down to scoop up her car keys from among the items spilled on the floor.

Casey stood. A hatchback in the distance tore out of its parking spot.

Sarah did not look back. She ran on, barefoot on the dark pavement, moving through pools of streetlight. But she shouted as she ran.

"Chuck and Ellie. In the room. Get them the hell out of here!"

And then she was in the driver's seat of a Taurus. Its engine roared and tires wailed.

Carina got out on her side, her mouth open, staring wide-eyed as the Taurus chased the hatchback.

"Chuck and Ellie are inside," Casey yelled, " — let's get them out of here!"

Casey ran around the car, getting into the room just after Carina did. Bartowski was supine on the floor, unconscious. The room was wrecked. Bartowski's sister was on her hands and knees, looking up at Casey and Carina with fear in her eyes.

"We're Walker's friends," Carina said in a rush as she ran to Ellie."Come with us, Ellie." Hearing her name seemed to unfreeze Ellie. She stood.

Casey turned, bent, and put his hands under Bartowski's arms. He turned Bartowski around and began to drag him out. He saw Carina pick up the knife.

"Sarah," Bartowski's sister panted as she stood, as Carina grabbed her hand, and pulled her from the room, "Sarah's been shot!"

A siren, and another, sounded in the distance.

Stephen — Serpens — peeked around the corner of the darkened parking basement.

Mary — Columba — was beside him.

She had a silenced gun in each hand. Her tan trench coat covered a battery of other weapons. Stephen had on a utility belt with tools and gadgets and weapons tucked into it.

It was a familiar feeling. A mission with Mary. But this one was about family, about Chuck, maybe Ellie too.

Stephen looked at Mary. As always, at such moments, she seemed so calm that it seemed she was on the edge of sleep. The exact opposite was true. She was in a state of profound wakefulness. He loved and feared her in this state.

"Okay," he whispered, "we know where they are."

Mary looked into his eyes. "Where Charlie said they are," she whispered her correction.

"I believe him, Mary."

"You shouldn't, Stephen. — How long have we been doing this? When will you learn?"

He stared back into her eyes. "When will you? Not everyone's constantly dishonorable."

She blinked slowly, unconvinced. "This man was part of a plot against our — against my — son. If it weren't for you, Stephen, I'd kill him."

"Don't. We need him. We need the woman and Dr. Depak. Fleming."

Mary spat on the concrete floor. "Are you sure we need Fleming?"

"Yes."

"But he's mine when we're done?"

Stephen shook his head. "Mary, we have larger issues."

Her eyes burned although her face remained calm. "We do; we do. Okay, let's do this your way. Charlie will get the laptop out?"

"So he said."

"If he makes a move for an exit without it…" Mary did not finish her sentence but Stephen's audible sigh did.

"Right...I know."

Her eyes changed. They were still intense, burning, but with a different fire. She leaned forward and kissed the tip of Stephen's nose. "I love you."

"I love you too." Stephen turned to lead her to the elevator.

The kiss and the words were their mission ritual.

Mary's guns were ready.

Casey got Bartowski into the rear of the car.

Bartowski's sister, Ellie, got in the back on the other side, Sarah's purse in one of her hands, the loose items in the other.

Carina was back behind the wheel, the engine sprang to life. Casey jumped into the passenger seat. The knife was on the dash. He grabbed it and shoved it in the glove compartment.

"Drive, Carina!"

Carina backed the car up, skidded, spun it around, and back out of the parking lot.

Casey looked back. Ellie was staring behind them into the deepening dark.

"Do you see Walker's car?"

Ellie leaned toward the rear window. After a moment, she shook her head. "No, I don't see it. Or I can't tell. They went the opposite way."

"It's okay," Carina said. "Walker's the best. Who's she chasing?"

"A...Pivot?...agent, a woman named Lou." Ellie turned back around.

Casey growled. "Lou Palone, the woman who stole Bartowski.".

"Sarah may be the best," Ellie said, "but she's been shot."

Carina looked at Ellie in the rearview. "It's okay, really. I've seen Sarah in action, even hurt, and she's still the best. She'll find us. She'll live."

Ellie shook her head. "Even if she lives, I don't think we'll see her again."

Ellie scooted to her brother and turned his face to hers. He was still unconscious. She rubbed his nearest hand. "C'mon, Chuck, c'mon."

Ellie kept rubbing his hand. "No," Ellie continued softly, "I don't think we'll see her again. She promised me she would save Chuck — and then she would go. She's gone."

Sarah tried to ignore the pain in her abdomen.

The blood was soaking more of the black dress but she could not see it, and she had to keep her eyes on the road.

Her bare foot slammed the accelerator down. The hatchback was no match for the Taurus; Sarah was gaining steadily, had been for several minutes, reeling the taillights in.

Suddenly, Palone threaded the hatchback into a narrow alley, hoping, presumably, to outmaneuver Sarah in a tight space.

Palone miscalculated. A delivery truck filled up the alley about halfway down. It faced in the direction Palone and Sarah were headed, its hood up and lights on as if it could see them and was about to swallow them. The hatchback squealed to a stop and Sarah slammed her brakes, her front bumper close-up against the hatchback's rear bumper.

Sarah looked through the rear window of the hatchback. She could see Palone looking into the rearview mirror. The two women stared at each other. Sarah reached for her gun; it was in the passenger seat.

Her burning abdomen blurred her vision.

I deal with Palone and then I get medical attention, assuming I still can, and I disappear. I know how to disappear.

She wished she knew if what she and Ellie did had deprogrammed Chuck or given him a chance at deprogramming. She prayed it had. But it was better if she vanished. Vanish. All these years I've barely existed anyway; it won't be much of a change.

From nothing, nothing comes; to nothing, nothing goes.

She'd known she had to go when she'd looked at Chuck on the floor of the hotel room. He was on the floor because of her.

Hello, Goodbye. Carina had been right: Lifetime After Dark.

Sarah meant it when she whispered it to Chuck. "I'd give up anything to save you." She'd give up anything to save him — including him.

This was how it had to end.

A/N: Should we go on and finish this or just stop here? — If you've been riding as a stowaway, how about paying a small fare, writing a review?

Thanks to Beckster1213, WvonB, and JohnnyRayChandlett for pre-reading.