AN: This came to me after reading a moving story on ao3 called "Save You Later". I thought it would just be a quick, 1500 word piece, but it ballooned. I do not want to spoil the ending, but i will just say that we get through the angst by the end. Please review and let me know what you think.

3 Years After The Roof

Abandoned Warehouse

"You lied to me," I scream. The anger I want to convey is betrayed by the despair and sadness that creep into my voice.

"Who are you? Show me your face you fucking coward," she shouts back, not betrayed by any emotions. Her tone would have frightened the old Chuck.

I grip the Beretta tighter and move out of the shadows. Her gasp is so violent that she chokes on it. I show no concern because I feel none. She doesn't deserve it.

"Chuck?" she whispers. Her eyes well with tears and she thrashes in her chair to escape her restraints. My restraints. The ones I put on her, finally.

I am surprised she recognizes me. Between the scar on my face and the Jesus hair and beard I have going, I am a long way from Burbank Chuck.

I surge forward and point the gun at her face. The pit of rage inside me has no trouble commanding my tone now, "Don't call me that! You have no right to pretend you know me."

"Where have you been? I looked for you."

"Stop lying, Agent Walker! There is no game left to play. I took all of the pieces off the board. You are the only enemy left."

She struggles again with her bonds. Some blood starts to trickle from her wrists due to the friction of the ropes. Good.

I continue talking, diatribing. "I could have gotten to you sooner, but you have to save the best for last. Or the worst in this case. The worst betrayal. You should have seen Beckman's face when I was waiting for her after her morning coffee."

Sarah's head shoots up from its prior focus on the ropes confining her. Shock overtakes her countenance. "You're the Piranha?"

I laugh. "I am now. That's what you all made me when you stuffed me in that cell. Forced me to flash constantly. Tortured me when I refused to comply. You broke me down and then gave me the tools to destroy you, made me download 2.0. Starved me of food, water, clothes, and sleep when I refused to do your missions. We'll, I turned the tables."

I continue my earlier tallying.

"And Graham, the smug bastard, hardly had an adequate security system. I read what he did to you, his personal files. Almost makes me have sympathy for the monster you became. Almost."

She startles at that, as if I physically struck her.

"But then again, I am a monster too now. But I am self-aware. I don't lie to people about it, manipulate them-"

"Chuck, I didn't-," she interrupts, understanding my implication.

I interrupt right back, shaking my gun again in her direction. "Shut up! You have had your say. I got your messages. Did your bidding. Waited for you to keep your promise because you told me to trust you. Because I loved you. I trusted you! But it was all pretend."

I laugh mirthlessly. "God, you all must have gotten a kick out of a schmuck like me thinking he had melted the heart of the Ice Queen. Did you watch me fall asleep at night crying over you? I bet you and Carina got your jollies out of it when you were in some exotic locale seducing oil tycoons."

Sarah is shaking her head, but I ignore her.

"But, I will get the last laugh. Everyone that had anything to do with my captivity is dead, except for you and Casey. Fulcrum is gone, decimated. Believed that I really wanted to be a double agent. Bryce and Jill. Did you know she was Fulcrum? Surprised me a bit too, but I guess it shouldn't have. Most of my life has been a giant manipulation, it turns out. The one person who didn't manipulate me was Casey. He's a bad person, don't misunderstand, but he never pretended to be better than he was. He never pretended to care about me. He never really lied to me, even if his truths were wrapped in sarcasm and insults. So, Casey gets to live. One surviving witness to the destruction wrought by the Intersect's existence and the government's betrayal of me. Your betrayal of me," I say, licking my lips for moisture and effect.

"Yes, we're back to you, Agent Walker. I saved you for the end because your actions hurt the most. Getting my revenge on you motivated me to get through the rest. You were always the carrot on the stick, right? If I just followed the government's rules, played the good little asset, you would reward me with a smile or a touch or hope. All manipulations. Well, I finally used the carrot and stick to my advantage. And now it is time to eat."

It is a dumb thing to say. The part of me that is still Chuck inwardly cringes at the B-movie line. It won't stop me from completing my mission though. I close the distance to Sarah and raise the gun to her forehead. The muzzle presses against her skin. She is completely still. Her eyes are angled up, trying to catch my gaze. I don't let it happen. I ignore the tears tracking down her face.

I sigh. "I thought about dragging this out, shooting you in the knee and then the elbow. Watching you bleed to death in pain. Reviving you everytime you lose consciousness. But even though I am a monster now, I am not as monstrous as you. I won't torture you like you did me."

I adjust the gun slightly, reassuring my grip. "Goodbye, Agent Walker," I say before beginning to pull back on the trigger.

She closes her eyes, resigning herself to her fate.

A beat passes. Then another.

When a shot doesn't ring out, she opens them again, looking at me in confusion. My finger is still on the trigger, but it hasn't fully depressed it. I don't know why. This is what I want. This is what I have been working towards for 18 months.

Sarah must take my hesitation as a sign because she presses her luck. "Chuck," she starts, but silences herself abruptly when I press the gun harder into her forehead. "Whoever you are. Whatever you want to be called, can you tell me what happened to you?" she asks. There is a tone to her voice that confuses me. It almost sounds pained. Perhaps it is pained because she is about to die.

"There is no use for stall tactics, Walker. No one is coming to rescue you. I made sure of that," I explain with some exasperation.

"Then there is no risk in taking the time to tell me. It won't keep you from your ultimate goal," she counters with logic.

I feint in response to her parry. "You already know what happened, Agent Walker," I growl.

"Pretend I don't," she responds quickly, avoiding my strike, making me stumble.

I pull the gun from her forehead and retreat again into the shadows. The sound of my pacing must echo through the abandoned warehouse, but I console myself knowing she can't see me pulling my hair as I have an internal debate. I don't know why I am struggling so mightily. My plan is perfect, dispassionate. I just need to execute it. To execute her like she did my heart.

For some reason, she starts talking first. "They strung me along for six months. They kept saying that if we completed this mission or captured that person, that it would be safe for you to come back. But the goal posts kept moving. I worried that if I showed too much emotion, let on how much I wanted you back, that they would reassign me completely. I realized it was a shell game when they ordered Casey to vacate his apartment and remove the surveillance. After that, I kept working their missions, but I called in favors from anyone I thought I could trust to try and find you. I was ready for us to go off grid when I did," she says.

I can't contain my fury. I rush back to her, grab her shoulders, and shake her, hard. The chair rocks with her body. "Stop lying," I scream in her ear. I want to punch her. My gun is in the waistband of my pants now, but I could have it out in an instant. Instead, I let out a final scream and push her violently away from me. The momentum of the chair's rocking combined with the timing of my push results in the chair tipping backwards. I hear Sarah's head smack the concrete. I expect some cursing and complaining about my behavior, but there is nothing. She passed out, I realize. I knocked her unconscious. Great. I can't kill her while she is asleep.

Heaving a breath, I bend down and pull her and the chair back to their starting position. Her hair now covers her face, and I brush it away so I can see her eyes, for defensive purposes.

Ten minutes later, it is her voice, not her eyes, that alert me to her change in consciousness. "Tell me what happened, Chuck," she says softly, like she used to back in Burbank.

She can't see me. I am behind her now. Not in the shadows, but not visible, like my entire existence the last few years. "You really want to go through with this," I say, hoping she hears the futility I try to impart with my tone.

"I do," she says, voicing words that would elate me were this another universe.

I grab a chair for myself and sit down in it, still behind her. This way, I can watch her without having to look at her. Another defense against her manipulative powers.

"Right away, they started wanting me to flash constantly. I did what I was told, figuring it wouldn't be long until we got the Fulcrum threat, and I could go home. But then a few weeks went by, and I started pushing back, asking when I was getting out or demanding to talk to you, to Beckman, anyone from the outside world. That's when you started sending your orders and lies."

I pause when I notice Sarah's shoulders tense. She tries to turn her head to see me, but I am perfectly positioned. She gives up but doesn't give in. "What do you mean, Chuck? I never talked to you while you were there. They never let me."

I ignore her infuriating use of my name, but channel its impact into an imitation of her voice. "Chuck, do what the doctor's say. We're close, Chuck, we've almost got them, we just need you to keep flashing. Chuck, I don't want them to hurt Ellie, you need to tell us what you flash on. We'll see you soon, Chuck, don't worry. And on and on."

Each utterance of my own name in the imitation of her voice is filled with more disdain than the last. I am practically spitting it by the end. In Burbank, Sarah saying my name was like a gift. I know it now for the coercion that it was.

"Fuck. Did they show you videos of me saying these things?" Sarah asks, interrupting my flow. I don't understand the relevance of her question and tell her so.

"I never said those things. We'll, not really, and definitely not the thing about Ellie. I would never," she defends.

I chuckle instead of crying. "I heard you, Agent Walker. Your voice and sometimes your face."

She again tries to turn and look at me. This time she is so determined that she tries to move the chair to which she is attached. "Exactly, Chuck, my voice, which is easier to manipulate seamlessly than video," she asserts, her voice coming in spurts due to her efforts with the chair.

"Stop trying to turn around. I don't want to look at you."

She doesn't stop. Instead, she continues talking. "They said you were struggling, refusing to eat, refusing medical treatment."

I snort at the notion that anything they did to me in my prison was medical treatment. She talks through my non-worded comment.

"They asked me and Casey to send you some video messages. We insisted on live communication, but they refused. I still thought they were going to release you any day, so I did what they asked. I wanted to help you through it. I told you about things in Burbank, the BuyMore, and I tried to be encouraging. It sounds like they spliced together some of my messages to make them into things they weren't. Did they ever give you any of Casey's?"

By this point, she has succeeded in turning her chair enough that she can see me if she turns her head. That must be good enough for her because she stops straining. She is looking at me now, waiting for an answer to her question. I shake my head no. Her eyes narrow, and I see her swallow heavily before turning her head away.

I let the silence hang in the air. She is clearly trying to convince me she didn't abandon me. It won't work. There is too much evidence to the contrary. Screw the little part of my mind telling me that her words make sense.

"I was cooperative for a while after that, but then the headaches started. They didn't believe me or didn't care, probably a bit of both. Kept wanting me to flash. The headaches were constant, but flashing made them exponentially worse. When I refused again, they started strapping me down, taping my eyes open, and force feeding the stimuli to me. I refused to talk just to spite them. That's when the torture started. Probably not as bad as you've gotten or given, but it was more than enough for me. Fists, knives, needles, electricity, and threats. I eventually gave in and talked, but that was just time for a new type of torture to begin. They would strap me down for days, feed me through a tube. It was hell."

I try to remain dispassionate as I recount my time underground, but I am not successful. My voice is monotone, but my stomach is a storm-tossed sea threatening to capsize me. Her eyes are on me again, filled with moisture. Her eyes look like how my stomach feels. It fills me with confusion, and then anger at her for confusing me.

"I'm sorry, Chuck. I should have tried harder," she says, her voice thick.

I rub my sweaty palms against my jeans. "Yeah, well, it wasn't long after that that they made me download Intersect 2.0. It came with skills and abilities. They wanted me to go out in the field again, to be a weapon. I refused, didn't want to hurt anyone, couldn't hit a girl. They persuaded me otherwise. Implanted an explosive device in my head to ensure I wouldn't wander off. Heh. I resigned myself to dying in their clutches. Thought about killing myself by making them kill me. But one night, my cell door opened. There wasn't anyone there. Lights kept flicking on and off. I finally realized they were showing me a path, a way out. It was my Dad, Orion."

"Orion! Your dad is Orion?" she interrupts.

I get up, pick up my chair, and move it ten feet across from her. Our setup was silly anyway after she finagled her chair around. But, more than anything, I want to see how she reacts now. We are coming to the end of the story soon. The end of her life.

"Yes, my Dad is Orion. The same Orion you tried to kill," I say, seething again at her level of betrayal.

Her mouth pops open at the same time as her brow furrows. "I...I did kill him. They said he was one of Fulcrum's lead scientists trying to build their own version of the Intersect," she explains or so she thinks.

I smile. A slightly wicked smile. "Another lie," I tell her, "my dad built the CIA's Intersect and then saw them for the evil that they are. He left us to run from them, but he came back for me. You tried to kill him, but between his genius, my Intersect, and my Mom's know-how, we were always two steps ahead of you and the government."

God it feels good to know the truth about everything now. To not be in the dark and thus having to follow Agent Walker around like a lost puppy. Sarah is now the one in the dark or at least pretending to be to buy herself time. It feels good either way. There is no one coming for her.

"Your Mom? How could she help you? I thought she left when you were a kid, like your Dad did," she says, pretending to be flabbergasted.

"Come on, Sarah. Why are you delaying the inevitable with this tiring stall tactic? Or does the CIA really not know that Mary Bartowski is one of their most legendary agents? The Frost Queen," I say, letting smugness penetrate my tone at the end.

Sarah's eyes go wide and she is starting to resemble a fish. This is why I wanted to be able to see her reaction.

"Your Mom is Agent Frost," she stammers out.

I simply nod my head and smile.

"Surprised me too, at first. But she and my Dad rescued me from the pit you left me in to rot," I spit out at her. It is time for my anger to take back full control. To be able to do what needs to be done. "We figured out a plan to get us all out of this life once and for all. That is why we've been systematically destroying Fulcrum and corrupt elements in the government. For those we couldn't destroy or who didn't deserve it, we gathered intel, collateral."

I watch her as she processes my words. I can see the exact moment she realizes the implications. I have killed. I am a killer. She made me a killer, forced my hand. And I killed people she cared about, people to whom she reported, maybe even respected. If evil assholes can respect one another.

"And that is what we did for the last year," I say, getting out of my chair and grabbing the gun at my back. "And now we are at the end game. You are the last piece, Agent Walker."

She starts to struggle again as I walk towards her. She is shaking her head rapidly and muttering "no" over and over again under her breath.

"Chuck, listen," she cries out, summoning more crocodile tears, "I didn't know any of that. They told me you died, that the entire bunker had been destroyed in a Fulcrum attack. I checked and the place was nothing but ash. They must have cleaned the operation after you escaped. There was no trace of you, no hint, or I would have kept looking."

Her words are said in a desperate tone. Burbank Chuck would believe her, would share her tears, and would already have untied her. Reality Chuck knows better. Repeating the scene from earlier, I push the tip of the gun against her forehead. She moves jerkily, preventing me from finding purchase. I kick her chair in frustration. "Don't," I order angrily, "or we will do this the hard way, the painful way."

She stops evading me, but her tears are now coming so fast that they have turned into sobs. Her body heaves with them, but I can still place the gun where I want now. She looks up at me. I meet her eyes this time, still curious as to why she has chosen to play her death this way. Her eyes are begging me. Her voice follows.

"Chuck, please don't do this. We were both lied to and manipulated. I wasn't playing you on that roof. I wanted to save you later. I am sorry that I couldn't, that I wasn't good enough."

I am tired and ready to go home. Like before, I adjust my arm and begin to push on the trigger. Sarah's voice takes on a frantic pace and a high pitch now. "I did lie to you though, Chuck! It was a lie to myself as well. When I told you that there was nothing under the undercover thing, that was the lie. I cared about you from Day 1, but I fought it because we are taught that spies don't have feelings. That spies don't fall in love. But I did, Chuck! I fell in love with you, and I didn't realize it until you were flying away from me on that roof. I love you, Chuck. You have to believe me," she sobs out.

I ease back the trigger to peruse her body language, to determine the truth or fiction of her words. After a moment, I come to a conclusion.

"I don't," I say before finally pulling the trigger.

5 Years After The Roof

The sound of the gunshot propels me out of my nightmare. I look around the room frantically, trying to get my breathing under control. Noticing a glass of water on the floor, I realize my thrashing must have knocked it over. That sound coincided with the gunshot in my dream and woke me up.

Her hand on my arm is a shock at first, but then it relaxes me like it always does. She squeezes briefly before running her hand up and down my arm.

"Chuck, are you okay?" she asks, her voice overflowing with concern and love.

I sigh heavily before laying back down and pulling her into my arms. She fits so perfectly against me, completing me. "Yes, just a nightmare," I explain.

She is quiet for a moment before guessing, "about that night, in the warehouse?"

I look at her in surprise. She smiles shyly at me. "We're getting married tomorrow. I think it is natural that some of the 'what-if' scenarios of our life play out in our subconscious."

I snort. "Well, that one is the ultimate 'what-if'," I joke before turning serious again. She is in my arms alive, but I can't help squeezing her tighter in fear. "But seriously, what if I had done it, ruined everything and robbed us of this future?"

She grabs my cheek, turning my gaze to hers. The love in her eyes nearly overwhelms me. My throat is tight with emotion. "You didn't. We were saved, and we worked hard to rebuild our lives. We just have to remember what is and not what isn't," she says wisely.

I kiss her lips tenderly and try to erase my nightmare.

3 Years After The Roof

"I love you, Chuck. You have to believe me," she pleads.

"I don't," I reply, finally ready to pull the trigger.

"You should," a voice calls out, a winded voice, a winded voice that I recognize.

I spin around quickly, pulling the gun with me. Ellie is standing behind me with her hands on her hips, breathing heavily.

"What the hell are you doing here," I demand to know, angry at her for interrupting my plan. Truthfully, I am angry at her for seeing me at all. We haven't interacted much since I escaped, and when we have, I am careful to prevent her from seeing how far I have fallen. But there is nothing hiding it now. This only increases my anger at Sarah.

"Stopping you from making the biggest mistake of your life," she replies, in a tone just as commanding as mine. A true Bartowski.

I scoff. "And what mistake would that be?"

Ellie moves closer to me now, no longer winded from wherever she ran. "From killing the woman you love and the one who loves you," she says with a smile, as if it is the most obvious thing in the world.

I wave my gun at her, dismissing her. "Go away, Ellie. I don't need any more distractions. You don't know what you are talking about."

She smiles again. "I know more than you think I do, little brother. Like the fact that Sarah came to me 8 months after you disappeared and told me everything."

I whirl around to look at Sarah. I am the one that looks like a fish now. The question is clear in my eyes. She nods her head in answer. "Why?," I ask, my voice cracking as the foundation of my life shifts again.

"Once I realized they weren't going to let you come back, I thought she deserved to know. I also thought she might be able to help somehow. Think of an angle I hadn't considered to persuade the government," she explains with more controlled emotion than before, probably due to having another reprieve.

Ellie picks up the ball. "And I did," she says, "I started looking for Dad. I knew he was good with computers, and I thought maybe he could find where they put you. He had left me a way to get in touch with him, but it took a while. And when we did talk, he was saying some crazy things about human computers and the government. He was mad we hadn't reached out to him from the get-go, but he said he could find you. He made me promise, however, not to tell Sarah anything."

She gives Sarah a contrite look, knowing that omission caused a lot of trouble and heartache. Sarah simply nods her head in resigned understanding.

"He didn't trust you, Sarah. I argued with him. I knew you truly loved my brother, but he wouldn't be swayed. And he did find you, Chuck. We got you out," she says, choking up a bit at the end.

I feel like the ceiling is pressing down on me. I look back and forth between Sarah and Ellie. Realization strikes, and I nearly pass out from the aftershock. "Wait a second," I stammer, pointing from Sarah to Ellie, "if Sarah hadn't come to you, and you hadn't contacted Dad, he wouldn't have broken me out?"

Ellie shakes her head. "He was pretty cut off from the world when I found him. Still a tech whiz, but he said that none of the safeguards he put in place were triggered when you got the Intersect or when you disappeared. I guess the missing persons report I filed was never actually filed."

I look at Sarah again. Her tear stains are drying but still visible on her cheeks. "You saved me," I say. I don't know what to do or think.

She gives me a small smile and shrugs. "I didn't know, but I am happy for the results," she says.

"Dad knew what I came here to do tonight. He was going to let me kill Sarah?" I ask Ellie. I don't fucking understand.

Ellie moves next to me and takes my free hand. "You know Mom and Dad have a complicated relationship. And how he feels about the basis of that relationship, with her being a spy and all. I think he genuinely believed that Sarah did not love you. That she was playing you. Your certainty of that only confirmed it for him," she explains.

Ellie takes the gun out of my other hand. I don't fight her. She ejects the ammo cartridge and lets it fall to the ground. She tosses the gun beside it. She holds both of my hands now and looks me square in the eyes. "When I asked him where you went tonight, he made some sarcastic comment about tying up loose ends and avenging a broken heart. I guessed it had something to do with Sarah. She is the one who broke your heart most recently, whether she meant to or not. I actually grabbed Dad by his shirt collar and demanded he tell me what he meant," she says, smiling at the end. I smile too at the image.

She squeezes my hands. I squeeze back. "So, he told me what you were planning to do, and I freaked out. He wouldn't tell me where and you weren't answering your phone. I spent thirty minutes arguing with him, recounting your and Sarah's entire relationship through my eyes. I even called Mom and she reluctantly agreed with me that it was possible Sarah loved you. She said that it had happened to spies before. Dad was quite startled at her implication. He finally relented and told me where you were. I broke so many laws to get here. I was worried I was going to be too late."

I can tell Ellie is waiting for me to respond, but I don't know what to say. This night has gone absolutely topsy-turvy. To be honest, I didn't expect to be alive right now. I was going to get my final revenge and then take myself out of the equation. Like I told Sarah, I am a monster now. As if she can read my mind, Ellie continues, "She loved you, Chuck, and I know you loved her. Your love was one of the most amazing things I have ever seen. I don't believe anyone is irredeemable, not her and not you. I think my kind little brother is still in there. If he weren't, I would have been too late tonight."

Kissing Ellie on the cheek, I release her hands and turn towards Sarah. She is crying again. Fuck, I am too, I realize. It takes a few tries before I am able to get words out past the lump in my throat.

"You loved me?"

She nods and shakes her head at the same time. Ellie gives a groan of frustration at our incompetence. Sarah clarifies quickly, laughing, "Love. Present tense, Chuck. I mean, I thought you were dead, but I never stopped loving you. I couldn't. You changed me." Her tone is Burbank Sarah, and I feel a spark of Burbank Chuck fighting for dominance within me.

Grabbing a knife from my boot, I advance on Sarah. I cut her free. As soon as the last thread of rope is severed, she launches into my arms. I catch her and hug her fiercely. My knuckles are white from squeezing her so hard. I hear a loud noise and realize it is coming from me. I am crying. Some might describe it as wailing. Sarah just pulls me tighter. I just keep saying "sorry" over and over again. Sarah whispers soothing words in my ear, but I can't discern them. Maybe they are just noises. But they are noises coming from the women I loved and lost only to discover I might not have lost her at all.

They are the most beautiful things I have ever heard.

6 Years After The Roof

I hang my jacket in the coat closet and go looking for my wife. Hearing noise from the kitchen, I make my way over there. Her back is to me, and I pause to admire the way the sunlight from the window plays against her blond locks. When she turns around to greet me, having used her spy senses to detect me, I admire an even better sight, her round belly.

She smiles upon seeing me, and my body automatically goes to her like a magnet. I give her a thorough kiss and put my hand on her belly. "How is little Luke today," I ask, grinning. She rolls her eyes and shoves my shoulder but doesn't actually move from our embrace. "We are not naming our child after Star Wars, so Baby TBD is doing just fine," she responds, putting her hand over mine and squeezing.

"Ellie is out back. She wants to talk to you about the baby shower," she says in a knowing tone.

My 'baby on the way' bliss disappears. I groan, "Why did we ever agree to let her host that thing?"

Sarah pats me on the cheek before moving back to the sink. "Like we had a choice," she throws over her shoulder.

I walk over to her again, put my hand on her hip, and nuzzle her neck. She groans this time.

"Come save me in ten minutes?"

She tilts her head so I can see her smile. "Always," she says before kissing me on the lips.

We had to go through a nightmare, but our life is now the stuff of dreams.