A/N: This is a bridging chapter, no angst. Herein also lies an explanation of sorts that may clarify some things, help tie things together. Within the paragraph that references Chuck talking to Ellie. We're in the home stretch here. Thanks for sticking with it!

Sometimes you win

Sometimes you lose

And most times you choose

Between the two

"Sweet Seasons"

Carole King

June 30, 2012

Echo Park, Los Angeles, California

Sarah had stayed in the hospital for observation for close to three days. Dr. Dreyfus had prescribed short-term medication for mood stabilization, as well as a sleeping aid. She had been reluctant at first, but he had assured her and Chuck that it was only temporary, to get her through this crisis point. The nightmares diminished on the sleeping medication, though not completely.

The worst part of all of it, for Chuck anyway, was the discussion he had needed to have with his sister. Privately, Sarah had told Ellie an abbreviated version of the story she had told Chuck, knowing her friend and sister-in-law needed to know the truth, why she had attacked her brother in his sleep. Chuck still had questions, things that he knew his sister could answer, as a doctor, things that he couldn't ask his wife in her current state of mind, but that he needed to know. The brother and sister had sat alone in Chuck and Sarah's apartment as his sister had explained. Sarah had woken up the day after those memories, fully aware that something had happened to her that she no longer remembered, the sensations she felt in her body too bizarre to explain away. That had prompted the visit to the doctor before she left California. Only by then it had been a little over 72 hours since the point where her memory started again. The negative findings Sarah had told him about, and later his sister as well after she had spoken to Sarah, had been a positive sign. No one contested that point. But, Ellie had explained now, a large enough gap of time for DNA and microscopic evidence to degrade beyond a detectable limit, a large enough gap of time for her body to heal beyond the detection limit of the ultraviolet light used to detect traumatic injury.

Alone with just his sister, he had broken down. The last time Ellie had seen him that upset had been after their father had left them, when Chuck was only 16. She had held him back then, and she held him this time. She understood the need to just let go, stop holding everything inside and grieve, and she was so thankful she was here, able to be there for him when he needed her. It had made her realize how much she truly hated being thousands of miles away from him. They were adults, sure, but had a sibling bond stronger than most.

Chuck had chosen to sleep on a cot in Sarah's room, something she was grateful for, but would not allow unless she was placed in restraints before she went to sleep. The threat of her doing serious harm to him was still real. The fact that she had hurt him significantly just a short while ago was alive in her thoughts constantly. Dreyfus had even told him the physical harm she had done to him was tormenting her more than the recovered memories.

Chuck had had a long discussion with Dreyfus as well, explaining how it seemed they had almost reset everything now, back to the beginning, awkward together in the apartment. Her battling crippling remorse, unable to feel comfortable with him or the situation. His own guilt, anger, fear, anxiety all resurfacing as it had before. Dreyfus had been the one to remind him that things were not the same now. Some things appeared to have regressed, but that was normal and expected, especially in cases like this, where her therapy had been so intensive and her progress so extreme in such a short period of time. What was different, what was positive, were her feelings, and her memories. By his estimation, Sarah recalled over 50 percent of her missing memories. As well as the entire time she had been away from Chuck. Her emotions were strong, vibrant, rich and full, like they hadn't been since a time before she had lost her memory. And that was a reason to be hopeful, he had said.

Sarah had been released from the hospital, weaned off the sleeping medication, and in the process of weaning from the mood stabilizer. She would not sleep in the same bed with him, terrified that she could hurt him again. He never tried to argue with her, or minimize her concerns. He knew how much trouble sleeping she had when she slept alone, and he fully acknowledged he would have risked another attack if it meant she slept through the night peacefully. But he also understood now her own fears about her instability were the worst, so he relented effortlessly, hoping to ease her mind about his safety.

Dreyfus had still been making house calls daily, only he conducted the sessions with Sarah alone. He had described his methods to both of them–cognitive behavioral therapy, which was a way to cope with her feelings and her thoughts. He also taught her a technique called eye movement desensitization. Dreyfus had explained it, saying how strange it seemed when he'd first started. A full hour of moving his fingers and hands and asking her to recall traumatic memories while she followed his movements with her eyes. The end result, in theory, was to buffer the memories inside her head.

Dreyfus had explained how the brain normally scrolled through random thoughts as the day progressed, or later manifesting in dreams. People with traumatic memories could be triggered back to that trauma, as easily as one could recall a past meal or conversation, or even a television commercial. People without traumatic memories took this flutter of thoughts for granted, but a debilitating memory could shut someone with PTSD down. The eye movements worked to diminish the intensity of those memories, force them to fade into the back of her mind and blend in with everything else. It brought about the balance that she had lacked at the beginning.

Three weeks of daily treatment had made a huge difference, Chuck knew this. Though they slept in separate rooms, he was vividly aware of when she slept and when she couldn't, if she had nightmares or peaceful sleep. The incidents of her waking, screaming in the middle of the night had decreased exponentially. After the first eight days, she had not had another episode of uncontrolled rage during waking hours. She still battled anxiety, sadness sometimes, but she could talk to her husband when she had those feelings, and Chuck's understanding nature and comforting presence made an enormous difference to her state of mind.

Ellie had remained for two additional weeks, but understandably needed to leave to go home to her husband and daughter. By then, Sarah was sleeping better, eating well, and exercising. And when Sarah was better, so was Chuck. It was ridiculously sweet to see how in tune with each other they were, always, and more so now, after everything that had happened.

Today, Dreyfus had asked for a sit down with both Chuck and Sarah. They sat side by side on the sofa while Dreyfus sat across from them in the chair, his ever present notebook poised on his knee, his pen at the ready. "I'm ready to make my report back to General Beckman this afternoon, and I wanted to keep you both abreast of the situation. I'm requesting Sarah's security clearance be reinstated. Like I had told you at the beginning, I can't clear Sarah for field work, probably for the rest of her life, but I never thought that was a concern of yours."

"No," Sarah replied quickly, a beaming smile on her face as she shook her head from side to side.

Dreyfus huffed softly in acknowledgement. "My regular office is here in L.A., as you both are aware. I'm recommending weekly sessions for Sarah for the time being, not permanently mind you, but for a few months to see how things are going. We can increase or decrease the frequency as we see fit, including Chuck when we need to, etcetera." Looking up from his notebook, he looked directly at Sarah. "Any reports of nightmares? Fits of rage? Feeling like you are losing control?" he asked her.

She smiled, glad she was able to report good news. "No anger issues at all. I use the coping skills I have, and it works for me. It helps having someone there to talk to, who actually listens to you," she said, turning to look quickly at her husband. Chuck flashed her a crooked grin.

Dreyfus nodded, writing in his notebook, a tight-lipped smile on his face. "And the nightmares?"

"The last time was what, ten days ago?" Chuck asked, glancing at her for confirmation. "Much fewer and far between. Less disruptive to her sleep as well."

"What about sleep in general? Bouts of waking and not being able to fall back to sleep? Insomnia? Difficulty falling asleep?" he asked.

Chuck saw her cheeks flush darker as she shifted her gaze to the floor. "It's always been harder for me to sleep when I'm alone."

Dreyfus looked surprised. "You sleep separately?"

Chuck watched her closely, as she blushed floridly, keeping her eyes averted. There were tears standing on her lower lids when she looked up. "I don't want to hurt him again," she whispered.

"I can understand that," Dreyfus replied.

"No, no, I'm not sure you do," she answered passionately. Her voice broke. "You have no idea what it feels like to know that you seriously hurt someone you love. I almost killed him before. I could have killed him this time. I think him hitting his head and passing out is the only thing that would have made me stop," she finished, covering her mouth with her hand. Chuck's hand was on her back, softly moving to offer her comfort.

Dreyfus' voice was hushed, gentle, as he spoke deliberately and slowly. "You also attempted to take your own life as a means to protect him, Sarah." He paused significantly, waiting until she looked up at him before he continued. "Dealing with the underlying cause of the rage ensures that won't happen again. Do what feels right, when you feel comfortable. It's already improving, and it will continue. I know that it will."

July 10, 2012

Echo Park, Los Angeles, California

"General!" Chuck exclaimed when he answered the phone. "This is a surprise."

"Chuck, I just wanted you to know Sarah's security clearance is official. She's been cleared by the NSA," Beckman told him over the phone.

"That's great. Although I admit, it wasn't a pressing concern as of right now," Chuck mumbled after her.

"How is she, Chuck?" Beckman asked, genuine concern for his wife shining through in her voice. She had called while Sarah was hospitalized, and he had had to tell the General in very broad terms what had happened, what they'd learned.

"Much better," he gushed, breathing a sigh of relief as he told her. "She's down to one session a week. No more nightmares." He paused, swallowing hard. "Thank you, General, for sending him to us."

Sensing Chuck was going to get emotional, Beckman interrupted before he spoke again. "I also heard quite a bit from your…" she cleared her throat, "associate, Morgan Grimes." She said his name like she was pronouncing the name of a disease. "About your company?" she added, as he stayed silent.

"My what?" he asked slowly. "Oh, yeah. Yeah, that. What, uh, what did he say? And why did he say he called you about it?"

"He said he and Casey were handling it for you. I have an address," she said, like she was expecting him to suddenly remember. "Boy, when he said handling it, he meant handling it. Casey did say all they needed was your brain and they were good to go."

"Well, that's good to know. I guess," Chuck stuttered, as much to himself as to her.

Did annoyance have a sound? Definitely the breath he heard Beckman breathe out when he paused. "Anyway, Mr. Bartowski, check your secure inbox within the next week. I'm sending the preliminary government contract for your perusal. Mr. Grimes said that he didn't expect the company to be up and running for at least another month or possibly two or more. You have time. I just wanted you to correlate with any staff you think you might need to hire to cover what we're hiring you for."

"Did I…did I.. agree to a government contract?" he asked nervously.

"Wasn't that the purpose of your company, Mr. Bartowski?" Beckman asked stiffly. "If you'd like to do password management for local credit unions, that's your prerogative. But at 25 million dollars a year, I thought you might like something in your wheelhouse, that was a little more in line with your…unique…skill set. Correct me if I'm wrong," she droled.

"I'm sorry, what?" he asked, dumbfounded at the number.

"That's the fee negotiated by Mr. Grimes. He assured me he was authorized to speak as your representative. If there's a problem–"

"No! No, no, no, no, no, General," he stuttered. "No problem. We are good to go. At your service, ma'am. Or, you know, whoever," he grumbled, as he fought to contain his goofy grin that he knew would show in his voice. Beckman clicked off the line without another word.

July 26, 2012

Echo Park, Los Angeles, California

"Oh, you guys look so much better!" Ellie gushed over the video connection as Chuck and Sarah sat for their weekly chat. The highly structured routine Chuck had started with when Sarah was just trying to regain her memories had been relaxed, although they tried to maintain most of the elements for balance. They still had dinner with Emma and Molly, Morgan and Alex. Still had movie night, and went out together alone.

"Really?" Sarah kidded. "We've been so busy getting this company up and running I'm amazed we aren't sleeping standing up talking to you."

"That's good stress, though, right?" Ellie laughed, keying in on the smiles on both of their faces.

"The best," Sarah smiled back. "It's what we wanted. And it's finally happening."

Ellie saw the shadow pass over Chuck's face, though his smile never faded. Not quite all of it, Ellie knew. But as much as they could hope for right now. And it could only get better.

"Sleeping next to Chuck may have something to do with that as well," Sarah said, beaming as she reached for his arm and held it.

Ellie smiled, as her eyes misted. "That's wonderful news, guys. I'm so relieved."

"I haven't had a nightmare in two weeks. And even then, only one in over a month. My moods are much more stable." Ellie saw what she didn't say on her face. She had stopped worrying about accidentally hurting her husband.

Ellie's face suddenly became serious. "Listen, since you seem like you guys are in a much better place, I wanted to talk to you both about something."

They looked at each other, turning back to the camera. "Go ahead," Chuck told her.

"When I got back to Chicago, I got in touch with General Beckman. She was able to ship that evidence to me. You know, the cards that you talked about with the three dimensional fractals? The ones that could trigger flashing?" she asked.

"Yeah," Chuck responded cautiously.

"I've been studying them ever since in my lab. And I think I figured out how they work. Do you remember you telling me what Dad did when he removed the first Intersect from you? Basically canceled out the images that had all the information embedded in them?" Chuck nodded. "Somehow those images correspond to a piece of the Intersect that was present in the earliest version, but not in the one Dad reconfigured for the 2.0. When I repaired it, I left the evidence on the computer that the DNI took custody of. They used my research to make those cards. I transcribed the information, Chuck. If you looked at those cards, I think you would forget all the same things. It was both of your dossiers encoded there."

"Ellie," Chuck said, worried at the moment.

She knew what her brother was worrying about. "General Beckman authorized me to destroy them, but not before I used them to try and see if there is a way to reverse what happened to Sarah."

"Is there?" Chuck asked.

Ellie sighed in frustration. "I think so." She blew out a heavy sigh. "The problem is–there is no way to test it. It's a one shot deal. It could restore all of those memories, and everything will be fine. It could restore them, but erase everything she's remembered since the download. Or she could forget the repressed memories that therapy helped her recover. I can't predict what will happen. Right now, the Intersect I think Sarah has is dormant, like it basically shut off, or suppressed itself. I don't want to risk activating it again. I'm probably 90 percent certain that it will work the way it's supposed to. But I had to make you aware of what we're really looking at here."

Chuck struggled to keep his face neutral, as he gazed at Sarah. Her eyes were huge, glassy, as she stared, her mouth hanging slightly open, at Ellie. "Oh my god, Ellie, that's incredible," she gushed. She steepled her hands over her mouth, turning to look at Chuck. She sat looking at him, staring into his eyes for what felt like an eternity.

Tears had spilled over onto her cheeks by the time she looked back at Ellie to speak. "I appreciate everything that you did, Ellie. Believe me. But, I think you should just destroy them." She glanced over at Chuck, seeing how full his eyes were. "I won't risk losing anything, Ellie, not now. Not while we're here, like this."

She had told Dreyfus at the beginning. Even if she never remembered another thing, she would be ok. She was in love with her husband, for who he was, not what she remembered about their past together. She fell in love with him every time she looked at him, every time he smiled at her. "It doesn't matter, does it, Chuck?" she asked, turning to him. "When you mention something, and I don't remember what you're talking about, just tell me the story. Like you did on the beach. We have our whole lives to fill that in. And I promise we'll have more memories together now than those missing five years."

He was choked up, but smiling through his tears. "What, uh, what happens when I'm old and senile and I can't remember either?"

"Then it won't matter at all, will it? Or maybe, we just tell the kids and they can remind us both," she replied, a wide, beautiful smile on her face.

He laughed, breathing out hard and swallowing down over the lump in his throat. He watched her lean back against the back cushions of the sofa, as she slid her hand into the front pocket of her jeans. She pulled out a folded piece of paper. It looked glossy, like it had come from a magazine. It was only as she unfolded it on her lap that he saw the Japanese characters. "This was in your top dresser drawer," she whispered. "I promise I wasn't snooping. But I was putting back your t-shirt, the one you let me sleep in and–"

He stopped her flow of words with a warm kiss, pressed gently on her lips. She felt the wetness of his tears on her cheeks. He forgot his sister was even watching, until he heard her sniffle over the line. "I'll let you guys talk," she said, her voice shaking. "Oh, and by the way, we're moving back to California," she said with a quick, bright smile. She winked and cut the connection.

"Do you remember that?" he asked, resting his forehead against hers.

"Everything about it. You drawing it. Me feeling that way. Wanting that life. Like I do now," she told him, nearly breathless as she told him.

He pulled her into his arms, and she melted against him. She stayed quietly in his arms for what felt like forever. And she still missed the feeling when he finally pulled away.

XXX

She leaned across the bed to kiss him goodnight. He smiled gently beneath her lips, then softly kissed her, his mouth lingering against hers, but restrained. She shifted her body closer to him, feeling the warmth of him under the blankets as it filled in around her like a cocoon. She twisted her legs through his, resting her head on his chest as she got comfortable.

"Chuck," she said quietly.

"Hmm?" he asked without opening his mouth, beginning to feel sleepy.

"Thank you for being so patient," she said.

That seemed to wake him, sober him. "Hey, hey, hey," he said quickly. "I understand, ok? I'm not going anywhere." He positioned his left hand close to her face, splaying open his fingers, making sure she knew he was referring to his wedding ring.

Everything before had been different, while she had been combating her feelings of alienation from him somewhere in her subconscious mind. With the memories intact, her feelings about intimacy had changed. Dreyfus had counseled her, reassured her. For her, this was the hardest part, to acknowledge that it could take some time before she could feel the way she had always felt when she was with him that way. She was always focused on how she was feeling, as she was instructed to do. She could act on her desires, when they were present, so long as she communicated with her husband, and he was sensitive to her. The situations were dynamic, and they had to learn to be adaptable.

Chuck was perfect, in every way, when it came to all of it. She couldn't have asked for someone who was more sensitive to her nonverbal cues, her emotions, or her state of mind. Or someone who so selflessly loved her he never thought of himself when anything like that was concerned.

He had faith, and knew when the time was right, and she felt comfortable, they could be intimate again. For now he was content to hold her in his arms while she slept, the soft, relaxed sound of her breathing a balm for his soul.