summary: Exhausted from the events with her mother, the baby, and Ryker, Sarah takes a break and turns down Graham's next assignment. With her not there to intervene, Casey's Intersect plan is realized- Chuck is thrown into a bunker. When she learns the truth through a twist of fate, Sarah realizes all she missed out on in not taking that mission, and the gift she never got to know. Discovering the bunker has isolated Chuck and shut down the Intersect, she decides she only has one choice: to fix it. What she finds in him, and he in her, might just change both of their lives.
note: I considered waiting until actual Thanksgiving to post this, but I thought that'd be too long a wait ;). Thanks for all your reviews and various button presses so far. Helps a lot. Please review!
disclaimer: I don't own Chuck, fountains, mimosas, or unexpected visitors.
The flight was awesome. Perhaps his handler, who was sat by his side the whole way, is used to CIA private jets, but from the moment he'd stepped onto the plane Chuck had found himself in awe of the technology on display, the sleekness, coolness, the up-to-date tech alongside the somehow incredible chairs and tables, the (okay, un-manned, but still there) bar stocked with drinks, the fold-out beds for longer-haul trips, the comfy couches... He immediately couldn't help himself; like a kid in a candy store he'd poked and prodded everything, from the built in TVs to the slide-up glass screens between the chair and the aisle, even the buttons to dim the windows. It's all fairly normal technology Sarah's seen dozens of times- in fact, once he'd calmed down she'd explained to him how this is just a regular CIA jet, as opposed to the Supersonic one she's often used before when needing to get somewhere fast.
But still, it was awesome. He had to hold back the urge to take photos for posterity on his newly-reacquired cell phone. Sarah had gotten it and his wallet back for him, handing them to him as they left the bunker, and it had genuinely been strange to have them back again. The phone filled with texts from the days right before he was brought to Washington, the wallet filled with fading receipts and spare change from his last purchases- the restaurant check from the date with Agent Jones. Bizarre memories, so out of place with his life now it's hard to believe they were his, once.
Once they'd taken off, he'd forced himself to calm down, shaking off the mix of excitement and something stranger from those belongings of his, instead occupying himself with the copies of Justice League he'd packed. Honestly, he'd finished every edition within hours, that first day Sarah had brought them by, needing a distraction from defusing another wholeass bomb, but every time he reads them and remembers what they represent, what Sarah did, they calm him, set him at ease. And so he'd happily read through them, while Sarah had done some rather different reading, skimming files and folders by his side. When he'd snuck a peek, he'd seen some photos of Echo Park, so he figures she was studying their new location.
Which had made him realize- he isn't sure how much time Sarah's spent in LA before. He never thought to ask if she's familiar with the city, if she's visited for missions or maybe even vacations. If spies even get vacations. In fact, he doesn't know much about his handler at all- where she's from, where she grew up, her life before the CIA or even now, during it. She's almost his savior, here, getting him out of the bunker and on this trip to LA, and yet it hit him that he knows almost nothing about her, other than she's a spy, she got injured, and she had a tough mission just before Bryce sent him the Intersect. And he wants to know more- not just because she's his savior in so many ways. But also... he really just wants to know her. Because Sarah Walker is pretty fucking awesome, really.
The closer they got to Southern California, though, the more reality had started to set in, for him. That in just a little while, he'd be seeing his sister for the first time in months, and keeping up a cover with Sarah for the first time, while answering questions about what he's been doing, where he's been, how he is. It's a whole lot, he suddenly realized, and nerves had started to build in him the longer the flight had gone on. Sarah had asked him a few times if he was okay, but he'd shrugged her off lightly. It's not like she could really do anything to alleviate his family worries, and his concerns about doing anything normal again for the first time since he'd been Matrix'd, as he'd put it the other day. All Sarah would be able to do is just say nice things to reassure him- and though he's a very big fan of her doing, well, anything, he knew it would just be a waste of time.
Because his nerves ultimately boil down to one thing: he decided not to tell Ellie they were coming home for the holiday.
It's just that if he had, in a phone call, she'd have so, so many questions. He'd literally just told her in a call that he wouldn't make it back, and so many times before he's been totally unable to leave D.C., using every excuse in the book to his sister as to why he couldn't move. To pivot on that, to totally turn 180 and go, 'Surprise, I'm coming home in two days!' would've raised Ellie's suspicions- anyone's suspicions, really. Showing up as a surprise will hopefully be enough of an immediate distraction that all of those issues can be circumvented, at least for a little bit. As well as that, Sarah being there too, maybe unexpectedly after the little he's said about her, shows how close they are, solidifying her cover for the mission. It'll also let him break the news that he's 'moving back' more convincingly in person, rather than Ellie maybe hearing that through a phone call later. Plus, cover aside, Ellie also always gets stressed when she's expecting new visitors, going into super cleaning mode without fail- just rocking up on her doorstep also saves her all that effort.
But because he hasn't told her, he's not exactly sure what to expect, from his sister. He doesn't know how this'll go down, and considering how much else about this world is still making him anxious, panicky, in how uncertain things can be, how much is out of his control... His sister being in that realm too is just a little unsettling. He doesn't know how she'll react.
When they land, it's on the tarmac, greeted by an airport official Chuck is 90% sure is just a CIA agent. Sarah just flashes the official some credentials, and they're immediately walked to a direct exit out onto the concourse- they already have their bags as carry-ons, so there's no need to make their way through the airport. Sure enough, a hired cab is already waiting for them, and Chuck actually enjoys getting to skip the queues and angry arrivals as they simply slip into the taxi and drive away.
After a minute in silence, just them and the driver, Sarah clears her throat.
"So what do you usually do for Thanksgiving?" she asks, and he looks over at her. "What am I in for?"
Relaxing without even realizing, he smirks a little.
"Not much. We watch the parade sometimes, if we can be bothered, watch a couple movies... The main thing is the food."
"And what's that normally like?"
He frowns, tries to summarize just the everything of it all.
"Oh, well... Turkey, vegetables, rolls, potatoes... Sweet potatoes and marshmallows, which Morgan loves. Ellie's just, an awesome cook, she always kills a holiday meal." At that, Sarah suddenly smiles a little wistfully, and he wonders what that might be for. What she's thinking of, missing, maybe. "Do you usually do Thanksgiving?"
"Um." She shifts in her seat, looking out the window at the LA scenes passing by. "Not recently. Not, not for a long time, really."
He can't help but be curious as to what the reason for that might be- and he senses, somehow, that it might not just be her job. The way she's avoided actively saying it is a give-away, for one.
But he won't pry, and so he just laughs lightly.
"Yeah, I guess the, uh, government work doesn't give you much time for it," he muses. She looks at him, eyebrows raising in surprise, and he smiles at her. Something dawns on her face, realization that he just took the easier, less-invasive path, perhaps, and after a beat she smiles softly in reply. He lets that warm him the whole way to the Echo Park, his nerves dulling to a quiet hum in his mind.
The cab eventually slows by the outside entrance to the apartment complex, and he lets himself soak it in as he sees it for the first time in so long. Home. His home for years, long years, tough years, depressed miserable years. But years with his sister, his family, growing and overcoming, persevering together, years of home. It still looks the same- like it always has. He wonders why he'd thought it would change in two months after all that time being the same. He supposes two months in a bunker really do feel like a lifetime. But it's all still there, the tall, leafy bushes, the stone archway marking the way in, the same wrought iron numbers attached to the front wall. Even the same cracks in the concrete he stumbled over after many a late shift at the Buy More.
Perhaps sensing he needs a moment, Sarah thanks the driver, and Chuck steps out of the car with both of their bags, breathing in the LA air again. Humid, not that great, a little thick- and home. The taxi door shuts, and the car drives away; he spins on his heel to see Sarah looking up at the place, taking it in.
"And you're sure that Ellie won't mind us staying here?" she checks, for probably the fifth time since they decided on this, but he just chuckles. Most people might not be cool with family showing up on their doorstep on Thanksgiving- but not Ellie. Unless it's Awesome's parents or someone else she dislikes that much, Ellie would always welcome in family, friends, anyone in need of the space. She's just that kind of person, all warmth, no bitterness.
"I'm sure. She was just telling me my room is free if I could somehow come back. And on the suuuper super tiny offchance she doesn't want us here-" Which he knows won't happen- "We can get a hotel room from the CIA, right?"
Sarah nods, reaching for her bag and tugging out the handle. He does the same, and they walk up towards the archway. As they go, she slips her hand into his, the feeling oddly familiar, comforting, though he can't immediately recall the times they've done it before. But he suppose it's for the cover- and more than that, it just feels nice. To have a hand to hold.
Smiling softly, they walk into the courtyard, and they both take it in- for different reasons, of course, but similar just the same. Sarah is probably processing the location she'd seen in files and folders, the one they'll be becoming familiar with when the mission takes off. He is, again, checking it's all still here. The fountain, the lush green trellises and flowers everywhere, the stone that perfect light sandy color that just embodies the sun that shines through the place. God, he's missed it.
"You okay?"
"Yeah," he murmurs, but his voice catches a little, and in spite of himself he flushes and clears his throat. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just, there was a time I thought I'd never make it back here, y'know?"
"I know," she murmurs, something deep within her tone. She squeezes his hand, and just like that his heart starts pounding in his chest. Sarah Walker, by his side, brought him here. He turns to her, wondering what on earth he can say to thank her properly. To ever convey just what she's done for him.
"All of this is because of you, Sarah," he presses out. "I... God, I can't thank you enough."
And then he barks a quiet, disbelieving laugh, and she grins at him like the sun.
"Don't freak out," she says, and he chuckles, then takes a deep breath, nodding.
"Let's do this."
With another squeeze of her hand, they head toward Ellie's apartment door, knocking once they reach it. His heart races again, fit to burst, willing, pleading, desperate- and the door tugs open, and there before them stands Ellie Bartowski, dressed in pajamas and a robe, a glass of wine in hand. His sister. If he thought the courtyard was bad, how he feels now, seeing the woman who raised him, who he all but abandoned, standing here now... the feelings he felt at the courtyard are nothing compared to this.
He has missed her, more than anything.
It takes a beat to register, he sees, her smile freezing momentarily, before her eyes widen and her jaw drops. Frankly, he's impressed that the wine glass stays solidly in her hand.
"Oh my god," she breathes, and he gulps against his dry, nervous mouth.
"Surprise!" he says, hearing how it's almost half-hearted. Because shit, looking at her in this beat, he doesn't know what she's going to do.
But she's Ellie. His sister. And so in a second, she's rushed forward, and engulfed him in a huge, tight hug. She clutches him so close even with one arm, and he clings to her, feeling his eyes mist, throat start to choke up.
"Chuck!" she says, breathlessly, holding him close, despite the wine. "You're here!"
"I'm here."
And just like that, she pulls back, immediately shoving him in the shoulder, and for a second panic rises in him.
"You absolute rat! You lied to me! Two days ago you said you weren't coming, you said you couldn't make it!" She laughs, shaking her head with shimmering eyes.
Oh, thank god.
"Well, that's the idea of a surprise," he teases with a chuckle, anxiety ebbing, and she giggles, shaking her head and pulling her lip through her teeth as she looks at him with what he thinks is pride.
But then her gaze drifts to his right, and he knows, she's registered the other person here. Following her gaze, he sees Sarah looking, a bit wide-eyed, as Ellie just... stares a bit weirdly.
"Holy shit," she breathes, before immediately flushing red, eyes widening, as Chuck chokes. If Sarah wasn't totally sure they're related, Ellie being as awkward as he is certainly shows it. "God. Sorry, that was weird. Um."
"Hi, Ellie," Sarah says, stepping forward, reaching out a hand for Ellie to shake. "I'm Sarah."
Ellie swallows, then easily passes off her wine to Chuck before moving in for another huge hug, on Sarah this time. He smirks to himself- he was right, big ole hug.
Apparently oblivious or not caring about the giant embrace she's just offered a virtual stranger, Ellie squeezes Sarah tighter.
"Hi! God, it's so good to meet you!"
"You too," Sarah offers, patting Ellie probably awkwardly on the back, still stuck a little unmoving in her hug.
The woman hardly notices, apparently, for she pulls back and looks at them both, a beaming proud expression on her face, but then she takes her wine glass back from Chuck and huffs a little, looking frazzled, but amusedly so.
"I really wish you'd told me you were both coming. I'd be in, like, clothes."
He snorts, swats his sister on the arm.
"It's Thanksgiving! I'm gettin' into my PJs as soon as possible," he jokes, sobering a little at Ellie's flat expression. "Anyway, where's Awesome?"
"He was making French toast and mimosas for two, but I guess I'll make him double it." She turns to Sarah, smiling more. "C'mon, come in!"
She rushes off into the apartment, and he giggles as he waits just a second, the moment hitting him. His cheeks that are already aching from smiling, Ellie's laugh from inside the apartment, Sarah's gaze on him, lightly. He turns to her with a grin.
"C'mon," he says softly, reaching for her hand again without a thought, and he tugs her into the apartment, their suitcases dragging behind them.
"No way!" sounds out from the kitchen, and he looks over to see Captain Awesome, wonderfully predictably the same as ever- shirtless, handsome man, standing in the kitchen, bowl in hand. Only ever Devon.
He races over toward the two of them, and Chuck spies he's coming for him first. In such similar predictability, he finds himself engulfed in a huge, rib-cracking hug.
"My man!" Awesome says happily, and he chokes a little, patting Devon's bare back.
"Awesome," he replies, and the man pulls back with a hearty chuckle, pointing a finger at him.
"There it is!"
When he turns his gaze to Chuck's right, though, the younger man suddenly remembers he has introductions to do.
"Awesome, Sarah, Sarah, Awesome," Chuck drawls, and the Captain laughs a booming laugh.
"Good to meet you!" he declares, before immediately hugging Sarah just the same. She looks as alarmed as she did with Ellie, eyes wide, though this time maybe a bit over-squeezed too- Devon doesn't skimp on a hug. Thankfully he must remember himself eventually, for he pulls back, a little calmer. "You're both here for Thanksgiving?" he checks, and Chuck nods enthusiastically.
"Yeah, uh, if you don't mind us intruding." he checks.
"Oh, shut up, you know we don't," Ellie calls out, and he looks up to see his sister in the hallway, reentering now in jeans and a sweater, still comfortable, but not quite as relaxed as before. Dammit, he really was serious about those pajamas. "Mimosa time, Devon!"
"Awesome," the man himself declares, and Chuck laughs happily, but leaves the Captain to waltz back into the kitchen. When Ellie follows him, though, Chuck looks back at Sarah. Just taking her in, checking on her a little, but mainly processing once more. That they're here, she's here with him, in this place. His home.
She must feel his eyes on her; she turns and meets his gaze, grinning a little. He finds himself smiling back in return, just watching her, as she watches him... And then something clatters in the kitchen, and he jolts a little, remembering himself.
"C'mon, we can settle in," he murmurs, needing no further clarification from his sister as to whether they can stay. Just going now saves any future argument on the matter. Sarah nods in agreement, and he gestures for her to walk ahead as he shows her to his old room. And their room, while they're here, she guesses.
Stepping inside it feels a little bit like walking into a time capsule. It hasn't been long, of course, just those few months, but it feels like a lifetime, truly. The bunker has aged him in so many ways, everything he's been through and seen... The guy who lived in this room, surrounded by posters and ticket stubs and comic-con flyers; Chuck barely knows that guy anymore. Not least because he now lives in a sparse, plain bunker. This place just feels so inordinately busy and crazy in comparison, it's hard to believe he truly did live here for so long, until just a few months back.
Trying to press away the sadder thoughts, he shrugs off his jacket, leaves his bag by the bed, gets himself comfier as Sarah wheels around to the other side of the bed.
Oh yeah, he thinks. Shit. The bed- they're gonna have to share that. Tonight. Together. Fuck, they really never discussed that.
But there's hardly time now, he thinks with an internal wince. Externally, he clears his throat, tries to relax, thinks on the day ahead.
"What do you think?" he quips a little, and she smirks.
"It's... honestly a lot like I expected, from you- in a good way."
He chuckles, nods.
"Thanks, I think. So, you ready for some mimosas?" he bounces his eyebrows, and she giggles a little, shaking her head at his antics.
"Absolutely," she replies, and he giggles with sheer glee as he reaches for her and tugs her back out into the kitchen again.
Something hits her, at some point, between her first and second helping of food. It's all incredible, though Chuck hadn't led her to think it would be anything but. The turkey, stuffing, potatoes... the sweet potatoes and marshmallows, served because even though Morgan is spending the holiday with his Mom rather than the Bartowskis, apparently Devon has developed an unusual taste for the dish in recent years. The wine, too, Sarah's been enjoying that.
But no, what hits her is that this is just about the first family meal she's ever attended. And it's wonderful.
From the moment they arrived so unexpectedly, Ellie and Devon have been so incredibly welcoming. It's not that Sarah hadn't believed her friend and asset when he'd explained his sister to her, anticipated how Ellie would react, but Sarah just hadn't thought Ellie could be as kind as he was saying. Because Chuck described her so like Sarah views him- open, accepting, sweet and genuine. And before Chuck, she didn't believe anyone truly was those things, not for real. The idea of someone else in this world being like that, like him? She couldn't believe it. Not until she witnessed it for herself, which she now has. Because both Ellie and Devon's kindness and openness is so like Chuck's, their sweetness and genuine nature so disarming in the best way. They've asked things to get to know her, but haven't let her feel like the new person at the table. There's been a few inside jokes, but Ellie had explained them while refilling their drinks. They've made a few comments about her and Chuck, but mostly just talked to her as her, as Sarah. As a person, not just a new girlfriend.
And spending all this time with Chuck, truly in his element, comfortable, at ease, even having some wine... It's amazing the difference Sarah has seen in him in the short time she's known him. From the moment he'd seen his sister, on the doorstep, he'd just transformed. Into the same guy she's come to like so much, but somehow just... brighter. It's like the pale, sad pallor he'd taken on in the bunker wasn't just a lack of sunlight, but that part of his soul was still back here, waiting to return, to fill him. He's so relaxed, cracking jokes, smiling more than she's ever seen him. She loves his smile- all wide and toothy and nose-crinkly. So much of just his whole face, involved in a smile.
She can't even imagine what he'd be like if he were here all the time. If the Intersect works best in a relaxed, comfortable environment, surrounded by Chuck's family, then the agencies are definitely onto a winner when the operation moves here.
Chuck finishes his story about Morgan, shaking his head with a chuckle, and Sarah drags herself out of her musings.
"I miss that little guy," Chuck says happily, sipping on his wine and sitting back comfortably in his chair, and she grins. He'd been sharing the tale about his bedroom window and Morgan's frequent habit of just using it as a door- a tale Ellie and Devon clearly knew, but laughed at raucously throughout, cheeks all red and happy. "Ohhh, he's gonna be mad I've been here today and didn't tell him."
"Well, you wouldn't wanna mess up his plans with his mom," Ellie muses, though looking a little relieved that Chuck's friend was elsewhere today. While Sarah doesn't know their dynamics, it feels right just being the four of them today, somehow. The two siblings, and their partners.
Even if Sarah's not quite truly his partner. She pushes that distraction away as Chuck shrugs.
"No," Chuck gives. "But I think maybe he'll forgive me eventually anyway. I, uh..."
He trails off, meeting Sarah's eyes deliberately, and she suddenly realizes what he's leading to. She sends him a quick nod, but Ellie must catch their exchange anyway.
"What is it?"
Chuck shifts in his seat, takes another drink of wine before looking at Ellie and Devon.
"I'm... thinking of moving back to LA."
Ellie chokes a little, setting down her silverware.
"What? What happened, is something wrong? Your- your job?"
"No, no, everything's fine," he reassures. "But I miss you guys. I miss being here. D.C. is so fuckin' cold, El, it's-"
"Woah, you quitting, Chuckster?" Devon interrupts, and Chuck pauses mid-quip about the weather, eyes widening.
"No, the job is fine!" Sensing his exasperation, Sarah reaches out, rests a hand on his knee. Immediately, he relaxes a little. "The company has an office in Burbank. I'm able to transfer, and- and I'm thinking about doing it. Same job, same position, same company, they just have an opening here they didn't two months ago."
"I..." Ellie trails off, still looking shocked, and Sarah feels Chuck's hand cover hers, still on his knee. He squeezes lightly. "You've never mentioned it before. I thought things in D.C. were fine."
Chuck sighs.
"They are. They're fine. But I miss being here, I miss being near you guys and Morgan and just, everything here. Like, things were so crazy trying to adjust to a new city and new job and new timezone all at once I barely even got a chance to speak to you! I couldn't like, stop by after work, we couldn't have a movie night on the weekends. That's not fun! I just- I didn't wanna mention this and get your hopes up, sis, or get you thinking I hate everything over there. I don't, but..." He meets Sarah's eyes, suddenly, smiling a little softly. "If not for Sarah I might've gone a little crazy there."
For the cover, she smiles back, even as her heart thumps in her chest at the clear realness in his words.
Picking up her silverware again, Ellie nods.
"So it's not definite?"
"No. But I'm seriously considering it, and I wanted to let you guys know."
Devon hums, looking with intrigue at them both, and Sarah can tell the man is perhaps wondering how their relationship will be impacted by this potential move. When the time comes, they'll say Sarah had taken a leap of faith, trust, in Chuck, and that she was looking for a fresh start anyway. But Devon looks curious now, Ellie too, and Sarah wonders if, candid and honest as this family seem to be, they'll simply just ask her how her and Chuck will factor into all this. Before anyone can say anything, though, her phone begins to ring, and she jumps up, grabbing the cell from her pocket. The number onscreen is Graham's, and she swallows, hoping he's just checking in.
"I'm sorry, I have to take this-"
"Sure," Chuck reassures her, and she smiles, leaning down to brush a chaste kiss to his cheek, for the cover, before heading down the hall and slipping into his room.
She picks up, holding her breath.
"Agent Walker," her boss says sternly. Not a conversational call, or a check-in, she immediately notices. "Can you talk?"
"Yes, sir, I'm away from Chuck's family." she answers, since that's what he's asking.
He pauses, just a beat, and then-
"We have a situation."
A chill slips down her spine, a knowing dread filling her. Nothing good ever begins with that sentence.
"What is it?" she asks quietly, not wanting to know the answer, but knowing she must. She finds herself oddly reassured to know Chuck is safe and well right down the hall, and that this isn't about him.
"Last night the CIA were alerted to a shipment entering the Port of Los Angeles," Graham explains. "Nobody knew what it was; agents got there and found what they thought was a bomb. But it never went off."
She frowns at that, perching on the arm of Chuck's old desk chair.
"A bad terrorist?" she guesses, but she knows she's going to be completely off.
Graham laughs, no mirth in the noise.
"No. It was a stasis chamber, of sorts, the bomb timer was an oxygen supply. They got the capsule open."
"An... oxygen supply? There was someone in there?"
"Yes." He pauses, and yet more dread drops through her. Who- "It was Agent Larkin."
Despite her attempts to prepare herself, her jaw drops, her stomach, too.
"What?" she breathes.
"We don't know what happened. We took him in, interrogated him, but he refused to talk-"
"Bryce is dead." she insists, refusing to believe whatever the hell Graham is telling her. "He left me stranded and he went rogue and sent Chuck the Intersect from the DNI, where Casey killed him, Graham."
She read the report. Many times, trying to work out what the hell her partner was doing that night. He broke into the Intersect room, downloaded the computer, ran out of the room as it was exploding, he raced through the guts of the building, jumping through windows and running up stairwells, covered in blood (she saw the photos from the surveillance), he leapt across buildings, survived it all- and then Casey shot him, in the chest, right on the concrete. He sent the Intersect to Chuck in his dying moments. His final act, for some completely unknown reason.
This just can't be happening.
"I'm sorry, Walker, but it's true. I saw him- it is Bryce. Someone kept him alive." He says it so plainly. 'Kept him alive' like it was a simple IV and bedrest. The man was shot by John Casey- nobody walks away from that. Except... Bryce? She swallows, mind reeling, but Graham inhales sharply, and fuck, she knows there's another blow incoming. "Sarah- he's escaped."
"What the fuck?!"
Graham merely chuckles, and rage flares within her. Not only have the CIA apparently screwed up and let Bryce, a rogue agent, the man who cheated death somehow, who stole vital information and destroyed government property, who messed up Chuck's life and directly led to him being bundled into a bunker, not only did they let that man escape, now Graham is laughing about it?!
"Hey-"
"We think he's looking for Chuck." Graham interrupts, tone stern, and she freezes.
No, no no, Chuck is here with his family, she's keeping him safe, happy, keeping his emotions grounded and simple so he can flash. She's getting him back to a normal life. Bryce cannot just come here and undo it all. Not again. Not when he's already hurt Chuck twice.
"There better be agents looking for him."
"There are. But..."
She sighs, scratching her temple. She knows what answer he's wanting.
"I'll be ready."
"Ensure Chuck is, too."
The order flares anger in her again, because Chuck is not a spy. Nobody trained him, nobody helped him. As she told Chuck himself before, it's not like he was groomed for this, put through tests and specialist education by those who saw his brightness as a child. He hasn't been in this forever. He truly was a civilian one day, and had the entirety of the government's secrets in his head the next. He should've been briefed, taught- god knows he's bright enough he would've picked things up. To simply tell her to make sure Chuck is ready for a rogue spy hunting him down... It just makes fury boil in her chest. But she forces herself to stay calm, straightening her spine.
"I will. Keep me updated."
With that, she hangs up on her boss, grabs a pillow, and promptly screams into it.
A few minutes later, more composed and yet far more on alert, she heads back out to the dining room, smiling and sitting down next to Chuck.
"Everything okay?" he checks, bright, and she nods.
"Yeah. Just my mom."
Ellie awws softly from across the table, lifting a wine bottle and pouring refills for everyone.
"Do you usually spend the holiday with her?"
She blinks at that.
"Oh, um, no, actually- not since I was a kid. We're not really close, but we check in every now and then. Holidays, birthdays, that kinda thing."
It's closer to the truth than she feels comfortable with, but she finds it hard to wholly lie to these people. Chuck's people.
Ellie nods, though her expression is a little sad. And though he hasn't mentioned them much, Sarah is suddenly reminded of that note from Chuck's file, way back when, standing in Graham's office that day and turning down the cute guy with the curly hair who may or may not have known something the CIA wanted. How Chuck lived with his sister. Attached was a note, about how Ellie had raised him. Chuck has reiterated it many times, mentioned their parents' relative absence, but Sarah saw the details, there. Their mother, leaving when Chuck was 9. Their dad's noted mental absence, if not physical right away. Official CIA notes of Ellie Bartowski handling family matters, bank accounts, bills and deadlines. A log of a phone call from a concerned neighbor, when they realized the kids had been home alone for over a week by themselves. It's not hard for anyone to put together, let alone a spy.
And so, even Sarah's strained relationship with her mother, in reality, might be more normal than the complete lack of anything Ellie and Chuck have. It might even be something Ellie feels a little sad they don't have.
Holding back a sigh, she lifts her wine glass, taking a good gulp. Ellie immediately refills it, and Sarah grins at her.
"Thanks." she says with a giggle, and Ellie grins too. As Ellie begins talking about something else, Sarah leans back in her chair, her hand finding Chuck's wrist to tap it briefly.
He turns toward her, happy as anything, but when she widens her eyes he freezes momentarily, smile glazing over a little.
"We need to talk," she says under her breath, lips barely moving, but then she tucks into another bite of stuffing and joins in with Ellie's conversation, and they both move on like nothing is wrong.
For now.
000000
After second and third rounds of copious food, they finally call it a day for a little while, Chuck promising leftover sandwiches later, but helpfully suggesting they nap off the food coma. And so, blaming the travel and the huge amounts of food, they slip away to his room, Sarah ignoring the almost knowing smirk Devon sends them as they go. In reality, no matter whatever Devon's thinking might happen, they won't even snuggle- which frankly, Sarah muses, kinda sucks.
When they get inside, the minute she closes the door Chuck sighs and looks at her seriously.
"So, what's wrong?"
She blinks, turning around, surprised.
"How do you know something's wrong?"
"You said we needed to talk. And you looked spooked when you came back from your phone call, which I'm 99% sure wasn't your Mom, and like 50% sure was Graham. Something has to be wrong."
Trying not to widen her eyes at his perceptiveness, she nods, clearing her throat. Wow, she really needs to stop underestimating him. Before she says anything, she heads to his window, checking it's locked safely before closing the blinds over it, talking as she works.
"It was from Graham, you're right. He had intel about an operation that went down in San Pedro last night. They, uh, they thought they found a bomb."
She turns back around to see how Chuck raises an eyebrow, knowingly, somehow.
"But it wasn't?" he picks up, and she shakes her head.
"No. It was a container, with someone inside it."
"Someone?"
She folds her arms over her chest, nods. There's no other way to do this but to do the one thing so many people in this world haven't done before- be completely open with him.
"Bryce," she says, and Chuck freezes.
"Wh..."
"They don't know how it happened, how he got there," she explains. "He should be dead- I've... I've seen the footage. But someone clearly tried extremely hard to keep him alive, and then to transport him. He was being fed oxygen, in that container. The CIA found him."
Chuck gapes, eyes wide.
"I don't- I don't understand..." he says breathlessly, and she sighs.
"Me neither." Watching, she sees as Chuck slumps to sit on the bed just like she had. She hates that she has to deliver the extra punch. "But- but that's not all."
He sighs, expression so pained.
"God, what?"
"He escaped this morning," she says simply. "And they think he's coming to find you."
"Me?!" Chuck exclaims, loud, and she races forward with wide eyes, grasping his shoulders.
"Ssh-"
"Sorry, sorry," he says in a hushed tone, apparently remembering now that they're in his old apartment, his sister and her boyfriend just down the hall- and, they're supposed to be asleep right now. "I just- what the fuck?!"
"That's what I said."
Chuck huffs out a breathy, pained laugh, runs a hand through his hair, and she squeezes his shoulders and lets go of him, simply sitting by his side on the bed, instead. She lets them sit in silence a while, Chuck clearly needing to process it all, and after a while he sighs, sits forward and rests his elbows on his thighs.
"I really don't know what I did to him," he murmurs, and she frowns at the pain in his voice. "We were close, y'know? He felt like a brother to me- more, even, because we didn't have all the history Morgan and I had. We're bound by time, I guess, but Bryce and I- we only met freshman year, but we had so much in common. College was crazy and tough and stupid but... Bryce and I were so close, all the shit didn't matter. We took the same classes and we studied together, goofed off together, played this stupid game in the library. We had all these big plans for after graduation, working together..." He swallows, shaking his head. "He introduced me to Jill. We were roommates- the amount of time we spent together, I was closer to him than anyone, back then... And then he ruined my life. And I really don't know what I did."
God, she thinks. That he still questions if it's something he's done.
"Chuck... I'm so, so sure you didn't do anything. Please don't blame yourself, or think there's any... any justification, for what he did then. And again in sending you the Intersect, uprooting you from your life here. Nothing you did warranted his choices- it's all on Bryce." She reaches out tentatively, resting a hand on his back. He leans into her touch without missing a beat. Sighing, she shakes her head. "Bryce is a spy. He's one of the best spies I know, because he's so dedicated to the spy life. I don't know how long he's been in this life, you figured out with Casey that he was with the agency when he did what he did, to you in college. But- I don't know, maybe you knew a different guy to the one I did, but the Bryce I knew, the spy... He always does what he thinks is right, even if it's not. He was totally committed to the cause, to the greater good, following orders he believed in. Even if it hurts other people."
Chuck hums in confusion, turning his head to catch her eye, and she sees the frown in his expression.
"He hurt you?"
She nods, sends him a wry smile.
"He was my partner. For a long time- for a spy partnership, anyway. We worked well together, we had a great record. And then he left me, on a mission, just out of the blue, and he completely disappeared. I never heard from him again. And when I made it out, I found out he'd gone rogue, and then that he had been killed- or so I thought. But, Chuck, we worked together for so long and not once did he tell me anything. No warning, nothing. He didn't even help me out of the assignment. He left me in the dust."
"I'm sorry," Chuck murmurs, slow, looking so genuine. She sees the sadness in his eyes, but now such empathy too. All the ways they've been hurt. She musters up a wry smile, lifts a shoulder.
"It's okay. It's different, from what he did to you, I get that, but- I understand your frustration, Chuck, I really, really do."
He sighs, pushes off his legs and sits upright again, and she moves her hand away, ignoring how cold her palm feels when not resting against him.
"So what are we gonna do? If Bryce was rogue, and that's why he escaped again, if he's coming here-"
"I'll apprehend him," she clarifies, before he can spiral off into fears and worries. "I'll make sure he doesn't escape aagin, and I'm definitely not letting him get off with dying again. He's got way too much to answer for now."
Chuck smiles softly at that, and she can't help but grin.
"Do we just wait?"
"Yes. It's not ideal, but it's better than trying to track him down. Maybe he won't show at all, but if he does, I'm here to protect you, and your family, and trust me, I won't let anything happen, to any of you. If Bryce shows up, I promise you'll be safe."
She's never meant a promise more.
Chuck grins, nose crinkling that sweet way.
"Okay."
"Alright."
He nods, smiling at her more, before he seems to realize what he's doing and, sadly to her, stops himself, clearing his throat instead and looking around.
"Now, I actually am kinda tired and Ellie and Awesome won't be expecting us back out there for at least a half hour, so I might genuinely nap."
She chuckles, squeezing his arm before standing up, then giggling as he flops back onto the bed and wiggles himself into the sheets, getting comfy. He smiles, then closes his eyes, and she feels affection fill her chest as she moves to the desk chair, pulling out her knife for safety. As his breathing gradually slows, evens out, and the tension so prominent in his body finally eases, she realizes she's watching over him. And she doesn't mind one bit.
Tossing the knife over in her hand, playing with her phone a little, she just watches as Chuck rolls over in sleep, nuzzles the pillow, smushes his curls a bit, adorably, and she lets the stillness and quiet of the moment wash over her. She's in his home, in LA, surrounded by warmth and the most welcoming people she's ever known. Hopefully, in time, she can continue to get to know them, continue to be here, keeping Chuck safe but letting him have this life. A home. Not a bunker, that isolation, not anymore.
They can do this, she thinks. She can do this. Smiling a little wistfully at the hope, she settles in the chair, breathing in the-
The window opens so quietly she almost doesn't hear it. Almost.
Easing herself back, rolling the chair silently closer to Chuck, she raises her knife, quietly stands, readies herself for the attack. Chuck sleeps on.
Behind the curtains, something moves, and she holds her breath, sees the brief, silent movement below it. The curtain shifts, and she tenses, tightening her grip on the knife.
When the drape moves, she throws, her aim true as always.
And she gapes as Bryce catches the handle of the blade, and grins at her.
"Oh hey, Sarah," he says calmly. "Miss me?"
note: Well hello Bryce. Please review! But for reals, just gonna ask that you don't use your reviews to solely say how much you don't like Bryce. I've heard it all before, good for y'all. But you may have noticed we're now into canon, and he's integral to that. I'll repeat this next chapter too, but just to clarify, this fic will not be a full canon rewrite. Not because that wouldn't be cool, but because there's already many great canon rewrites out there, my personal favourite being by SC and DC, in which they truly make so many decisions I would make in adjusting canon. And there's no point in just repeating that, or indeed the show verbatim, so this will veer off into plots unknown. But for now, for this, we're here. Happy Turkey Day, indeed. Thanks!