A/N: This chapter contains dialogue from the episode "Chuck vs the Cliffhanger" written by Chris Fedak and Nicholas Wootton, as well as dialogue from the episode "Chuck vs the Zoom" written by Chris Fedak and Nicholas Wootton.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
When I look into your eyes
I tend to lose my thoughts
Don't forget your stare
Oh what as that you said
Would you let me know
"Can You Tell"
Ra Ra Riot
July 10, 2012
Chicago, Illinois
Sarah sat in the chair in Ellie's office. She was fresh from a 45 minute long MRI conducted in Ellie's lab, and so antsy from having had to lie perfectly still for so long she felt the urge to stand up and pace, but she refrained, as she waited. When Ellie finally arrived, she seemed frazzled, her arms full of file folders.
"So I have some information. You know, preliminary information, that I know right now," she sat heavily with a sigh. "I called Westside and had them fax over your records from the MRI you had after the car explosion, you know, the one I thought was the propane torch backfire?"
"Flowers," she said, looking away. "The hospital room was filled with flowers," she repeated. "Chuck brought me gardenias," she said, smiling gently.
"Yeah," Ellie said, knowledge of the whole situation now painting it all differently in her mind. "I also pulled the brain scans that I ran on Morgan while you were...uh...in Japan," she finished quietly, hoping the mention didn't jog memories of the last, ill-fated mission Sarah had gone on with Chuck.
"I compared your brain scans, from before you had the Intersect, and the one I just did, where you do. I think I know why you're not flashing," Ellie said, almost triumphantly.
"You do? That quickly?" Sarah asked.
"I don't know how to prove I'm right, because I don't dare test it. But I think it's because you're pregnant, believe it or not," she said.
"I was pregnant when I downloaded it, Ellie," she reminded her.
"Right, and according to the conversation I had with Chuck you flashed almost 40 times in two days. But you were in your first trimester. Your gray matter starts to shrink, actually the moment you conceive. But it begins to be significant in the second, and third, where you are right now."
"So what happened, the rest of my first trimester?" she asked.
"From what I learned, what Chuck told me, in between downloading the Intersect and when you found out you were pregnant, you had a lot of trauma, especially on your brain, and stress. And you were unaware that you still had it, so you weren't trying to consciously activate it. It's only a hypothesis, but I think it's still sound.
"So, while the gray matter is shrinking, what in effect is actually happening is your hormones are sort of pruning your synapses, like an overgrown bush. That streamlines the circuits of the brain, in a normal person. I think the Intersect being there, while your brain was changing, sort of unplugged it, " she said. "In a male brain it would never have been an issue, because the Intersect stays more localized. You are unique, even from Captain Dunwoody, in this circumstance.
"Morgan's brain looks completely different. His version was suppressed, and I found the evidence in his neural network, areas where the pathways are interrupted. The suppression device that Beckman used, as well as the one Clyde Decker used on Hartley, and Chuck, were designed from an unknown source. My father developed a way to remove it. He knew how to program a reverse Intersect, if you will, that would overwrite the Intersect. He used it to remove it from Chuck the first time, and that same program, modified slightly from a previous program, was used by my mother to suppress it in Chuck the second time. It worked in a completely different way than the one Decker and Beckman had," she concluded.
"The fizzling out effect," Sarah said, remembering the briefing from the day before. Ellie just nodded.
"My father's reverse Intersect design was downloaded off his laptop and uploaded to a computer system that, according to your mission logs, was destroyed in an explosion in Castle. Do you remember that?" Ellie asked.
Sarah shook her head negatively.
"I have to do some more research on the other suppression device. Between that, and Manoosh, and the...the cards," she added quickly, "there's something that doesn't quite add up. I'm going to have to keep searching. But I will figure it out."
"So, Ellie, the question I need to ask you. Being pregnant is protecting me from flashing. But I won't be pregnant forever. And my version has the potential to cause me to lose memories again. What happened to the government's suppression device?" Sarah asked.
"They destroyed it, after Beckman filed the report that Quinn died with the last copy. They didn't want anyone to try to reverse engineer another Intersect from the device. That's also why Beckman did what she did to protect Chuck. Because his version is non-removable, as far as we know," Ellie said. "So to answer the question you didn't ask, Sarah, I have to find a permanent solution. Now that I have the scans, I have more to work with. If you don't mind being my lab rat, I can keep working with you here. Alex can do the computer legwork that isn't medical."
"Test away, Ellie," Sarah said.
"I completely understand if you don't want to, but I'd like to try some hypnosis on you. It worked for Morgan, a little bit. I had been wanting to try it since I sent you the exercises that you were doing. I think it could help," Ellie said softly. "But, Sarah, I'd be looking for the source of that trauma, the one that made you panic, before. If you think it's too hard, I won't."
The first thing she thought was that she would, if Chuck were here. But he was away. Trepidatiously, she asked, "Will this help, get me back to normal?"
"It's the first step."
July 10, 2012
Bucharest, Romania
In a van parked on a busy, downtown street, Morgan continued surveillance. "That was definitive ID on said subject, although her companion, not so much. I only got a partial facial recognition. I tapped into the security feed in the lobby. She's on the tenth floor, room 1024. You can bypass the security locks in the stairwell."
"Roger that," Casey said crisply into his watch.
Chuck scrambled the combination lock with little effort, ushering Casey into the stairwell quickly and making sure the door shut without a sound. "We go in, we grab her, we get out," Casey said stiffly.
"Hold on, Casey. We have to assess the situation first. She may have the Intersect, memory loss, think she's someone else. We have to get some answers," he said.
"Just keep in mind, Bartowski, we could be met with lethal force. We know almost nothing here," he warned.
At the top of the stairs, Chuck spoke to Morgan again on his watch. "We're about to enter the hallway on the tenth floor."
"Coast is clear. Proceed down the hallway to the...left," he said, checking the monitor. "There's one guard at the door. So she's not sight-seeing," Morgan mumbled.
From around the corner, Chuck hit the guard with a tranquilizer dart, then ran forward to catch him so his body did not make a thudding sound as he hit the floor. One of them on either side of the door, Casey nodded to Chuck, then kicked the door in.
There was no element of surprise, apparently, because they were met squarely with two guns pointed directly at them. One in the hand of the unknown man, the other in Corrine's. In a crisp British accent, the woman he knew as Corrine spoke softly, "We've been expecting you."
July 11, 2012
Chicago, Illinois
Sarah sat on the edge of the examination table, in one of Ellie's labs. Ellie had dimmed the lights, ensuring they had complete and total privacy. Ellie watched as Sarah wrung her hands in her lap, a tell that she was anxious.
"You are in control of this, Sarah. Always. If something is too much, we stop. Ok?" Ellie assured her.
She nodded her head.
Ellie stood in front of her, holding her pen in front of Sarah's eyes. "Focus on the pen, and listen to the sound of my voice. There is nothing but the sound of my voice. Close your eyes, and count backwards from ten. With each step towards one, you will feel drowsier and drowsier. And completely relaxed." Ellie counted slowly, speaking in an even tone.
When she reached one, Ellie noted Sarah's breathing was calm and steady. She proceeded. "First, Sarah, I want you to think of a place where you feel perfectly safe, where nothing can ever hurt you. Can you think of that place?"
"Yes," Sarah said softly.
"Go to that place, in your mind. Where are you?" Ellie asked.
"My bedroom," she said slowly. "With Chuck," she added, only the slightest upturn in her tone.
Ellie closed her eyes, warmed by the emotion. She leveled out her voice, and continued. "We are going to go back to a specific time, a time in the past. But even when you are there, in that time, in that place, do not forget that all the time, you are here, in your safe place, and nothing can hurt you. You are watching what happened in the past, and it can't touch you where you are. Do you understand?"
"Yes," she said evenly.
"You were on the train, in Japan, and you were knocked out with a tranquilizer. You went to sleep. When you woke up from that, where were you?" Ellie asked cautiously.
Ellie watched her forehead crease, as she seemed to concentrate. "I'm not sure. It looks like a warehouse. Empty."
"Are you alone?" Ellie asked.
"No," Sarah said, her tone shifting down. "He's here. Quinn. He took me off the train," she said, strain starting to edge into her tone.
"You're safe, Sarah. He can't hurt you. Observe like you're invisible," Ellie coached. She paused, and Sarah's breathing calmed. "What's happening?"
"He told me he needs me to get him the Intersect. That I'm his soldier," she said, even in her flat tone, the disdain apparent. "I told him I would never help him."
"No, Sarah, you wouldn't. What did he do after you said that?" Ellie asked, feeling nervous herself, as she realized she was edging closer to trauma.
"Stimulants," she said, distress creeping into her tone again. "Forcing the Intersect to flash."
"You aren't there, Sarah. You're safe. Remember, he can't hurt you. This is just a memory."
Though her eyes were closed, two tears escaped, one down each cheek. "He's taking my memories. I feel them disappearing, not being able to hold onto anything, and it keeps happening over and over. And it hurts so much I feel like there's a knife through my skull."
Surprised that she had unlocked as much as she had, Ellie teetered between pushing her a little harder, and letting up, to dispel the tension. More tears fell, and Ellie saw her blood pressure creeping up on the monitor. She moved to end the session, when Sarah offered another observation. "I focused on memories he didn't know I had. Memories I wouldn't let him take. Things he couldn't possibly know."
Shocked, Ellie asked her, "What do you mean, Sarah?"
"The house. The picture in my suitcase. Never forget those," Sarah rambled. "Pain stopped, then. Only I wouldn't let him see," she whispered.
Oh my God, Ellie thought to herself. It made perfect sense. Instead of name, rank, serial number, other torture resistance training, which she would have been trained to withstand after years as a spy, she had funneled her resistance into retaining memories. Her mind racing, she thought back to what she knew about Chuck, when his Intersect had been breaking down, the moment he had described at the briefing, remembering his experience at nine years old, and the Intersect realigning itself, or actually, as she understood now, something he was able to do on his own, maybe subconsciously.
In a spark of insight, after six months of immersing herself in Intersect knowledge, she asked, secretly hoping she was correct, "What did you focus on? What was the trigger? The release valve?"
"Magazine," she said, breaking down on the word.
"Like for a weapon?" Ellie asked, confused.
"Pocket. Magazine," she said again, her voice beginning to waver.
Seeing another blood pressure spike, Ellie knew it was time to stop, hoping she could now prove what she believed to be the answer. "Ok, Sarah. You are in your safe place. I want you to count forward, starting at one, and ending at ten. At ten, open your eyes."
After complying, Sarah gasped, as if she had just run from a distance away. "Ellie, what happened?"
Ellie fluttered about the lab, grabbing up papers and stuffing them into her bag. "I think I know how to fix this. I just need to get you back to my house. I'm transferring all the files to my computer now." She turned back to Sarah, animation still visible on her features. "I didn't tell Bentley, or Beckman for that matter, but I actually figured out the program. The reverse Intersect my father tried to send to Corrine in Russia. I rebuilt it."
"You did what?" Sarah asked her.
"I always suspected the Intersect itself had suppressed your memories, rather than erasing them. I can't remove the Intersect until your memory is back. But I think I know how to unlock what you did, to protect yourself." Her smile was enormous. "I just hope Chuck kept what I'm hoping he kept."
July 11, 2012
Bucharest, Romania
Feeling a strong sense of deja vu, Chuck sat, tied back to back, with Casey, as the man Corrine was with paced before them. Morgan's chatter in his earwig had ceased, indicating he was either on the move to offer assistance, or he was captured as well.
"You are Charles Carmichael, no?" he asked menacingly, in a heavy Russian accent.
"Who's asking?" Chuck said defiantly.
"Let me introduce myself, Mr. Carmichael. My name is Leonid Poshenko. You are the man who took down Alexei Volkoff and Volkoff Industries, are you not?" he asked.
He knew the name immediately. "Poshenko. As in Mitya Poshenko?" he asked.
"He was my father," he said softly, "Murdered by said Volkoff in question. My father spent his life building that empire, and Volkoff stole it out from under him."
Chuck gazed back and forth between the man and Corrine, who stood behind him. It had been almost imperceptible, the widening of her eyes at the explanation of who he was and what he'd done.
"Isn't the enemy of my enemy supposed to be my friend?" Casey said, a low rumbling growl.
"Not in this case, Mr. Casey. You see, I know why Alexei Volkoff was able to overthrow my father. The CIA, and the U.S. government created Volkoff in order to do so, didn't they, Mr. Carmichael?" Poshenko directed at him.
Chuck's mind was racing. Riley, Volkoff's lawyer, had been fully aware of the Intersect that had changed Hartley Winterbottom into Alexei Volkoff. Somehow, the knowledge was also passed to this man. "I don't know what you're talking about," Chuck insisted.
"Oh, but I think you do, Mr. Carmichael. They used something called the Intersect. Programmed his brain like a computer and changed him into someone else. Very interesting piece of technology. Are you acquainted with a man called The Belgian?" he asked.
"Unfortunately, yes, I am," Chuck answered, still only vaguely recalling that particular ordeal.
"He was willing to sell it to me, but you stopped him from attaining it. That was the closest I have ever come. I was very unhappy, as you could imagine."
"Look, what do you-" Chuck started yelling, but was cut off as a loud beeping issued forth from the computer on the desktop in front of them.
"Perimeter breach," he grumbled, sticking his gun into the back of his pants. "Watch them. I'll be back soon," he said to Corrine, and rushed out the door.
Worried that the breach was somehow Morgan, but not wanting to miss the opportunity to talk to her alone, Chuck began, "You have to listen to me."
She rushed up to him, grabbed a fistful of his shirt, and growled, "Who do you work for?"
"None of this is-" His words were cut off as she struck him across the face with the butt of her gun, although to his internal surprise, it was orders of magnitude less painful than he had anticipated.
She ran to the computer on the desk, and her hands worked furiously over the keys. Chuck heard Casey grumble to him, "Ask her who she is."
"I'm not deaf, Mr, Casey," she said tightly, still typing. "My name is Rose." Chuck remembered the name, on the file he had almost been able to download off of Volkoff's computer before he'd had to use the EMP to escape. His hope sank, thinking perhaps this woman was just as lost as Hartley had been.
She stopped typing, seemed to scan the window, and the street outside. When she turned back to Chuck and Casey, her tone was entirely different. "The security grid is disabled for about two minutes. Who do you work for? MI6? CIA? I need answers, damn it."
Suddenly inspired that she was not all she seemed, Chuck wanted to just tell the truth. At least part of it. "Someone was still looking for you. Someone who couldn't accept you were dead."
"Who are you working for?" she asked again, urgently.
"I'm CIA. But I'm here because of Mary Bartowski," he said swiftly.
She looked so pale Chuck thought she might faint. "Mary? She's alive?" She paced away from the computer.
"Yes. She got word that you were spotted." He asked, "Who are you working for?"
"Myself," she said adamantly. "Why are you here, now?"
There was a long, drawn out conversation that could fill this gap, but he was running out of time. Hoping he had an ally, trusting his gut, he said only what he knew would allow her to understand. "Mary is my mother."
July 11, 2012
Oak Park, Illinois
Alex was alone in the house when Ellie returned home with Sarah. Devon was working, and Mary had taken Clara to the library for a play group.
"How did it go?" Alex asked as Ellie started arranging her bags.
"Amazingly well, all things considered. I need your help, Alex. Can you help me on the computer while I get this set up? It could take a while," Ellie said.
"Sure, Ellie, whatever you need. Have you heard anything? From Romania?" she asked, Ellie knowing she was worried for Morgan and her father, especially.
"No, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. They know what they're doing," she said aloud, to reassure herself as much as the other young woman. All of her reservations about Chuck working for the CIA had been alleviated by her comfort in her brother's skill and expertise.
"Sarah, are you ok? You look exhausted," Alex asked her, seeing her shakiness and pale face.
"I'm ok, Alex," she insisted.
"Why don't you rest on the couch, Sarah? Put your feet up. Alex and I have work to do," she said with a smile.
They disappeared into Ellie's office. Sarah was going to sit down, but something caught her eye. She moved across the room to the mantel above the fireplace. Numerous framed photographs scattered across the top. Ellie and Devon's wedding photo, pictures of Ellie and Devon together, pictures of Clara at various stages of development, and pictures of the Woodcomb family. Her eyes continued to scan, seeing pictures of Chuck and her, some old, some relatively new. Her eyes stopped at the last photo, an 8 x 10 photograph from her own wedding.
The frame was silver filigree, elegant and understated. She looked at her dress, the layered skirt and fitted bodice. Chuck's arm was around her waist, holding her against him. His smile was magnificent, she thought, noticing how it lit his eyes and wrinkled his nose. He was so happy here, she thought, a pang inside at the knowledge of how short-lived that happiness had ended up being.
She heard her own voice echo in her head. "We got married so that we could be there for each other when things got tough. So we could work through things together, rich or poor." Slowly the rest of the scene took shape around her, standing outside the house, their house, such defeat and disappointment on his face. He thought he had let her down. But, no, he had never let her down. Not once.
Their wedding photo seemed to suck her in, transport her back in time. Holding onto his hands as they stood at the altar, she had marveled at the fact that his palms were dry, usually a telltale sign he was nervous. He had heard her vows before, at this point, but what he was about to say, she had never heard before. What came out of his mouth, after that anticipation, had swirled around her like an embrace, binding them together in an unbreakable bond. "How do I express the depth of my love for you? Or my dreams for our future? Or the fact that I will fight for you every day? Or that our kids will be like superheroes with little capes and stuff like that? Words can't express that. They don't do it justice. They just don't cut it. So no vows. I'll just prove it to you every day for the rest of our lives. You can count on me."
Her vision blurred as her eyes filled with tears. She was back in Ellie's living room, standing on the precipice of that life he had spoken of, dreamed of, and hoped for. Tender like a wound, her heart ached, realizing what her running and keeping news of the baby from him had done. Even in the depths of his pain that he had laid out for her to see, he had continued to do what he promised-fight for her, with all his strength. Remembered love, even deeper than what she had sensed inside her waking up next to him, seemed to spill over into her bloodstream, bringing surging life to every cell in her body.
She could fight along side him, protect him from further pain, with the strength of what burned inside. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else was needed.
"Chuck," she found herself saying out loud, into the empty room. Her finger reached to the photograph, touched his face.
She had taught him to dance, while he had taught her about the joy of music. For her, he had grown up, taken a giant leap into adulthood, while slowly bringing out the suppressed child hiding inside her. She showed him how to shoot and hit his target, while he had allowed her to see there was almost always a way to avoid using deadly force. Embracing his family as her own, she had also shown him the way through, so they could also have a family of their own. Because of her he knew how to be strong, while his love had fostered her embracing her vulnerability. In the end, everything he knew about being a spy, she had taught him. And in so doing, she had learned how to be more than just a spy, the woman he loved for all those things, and a million more that she could hear him enumerate in her head.
Reasons she shared, almost perfectly, as seen reflected back in her own eyes, visible in the glass that covered the photograph. He was what she needed, for all time. A life of hollowed out dreams had been replaced by what she held in her hands now. The life he had promised her.