I don't own Chuck
She stormed into the garage, pulled on her gloves and began to assault the punching dummy in front of her.
"Does he even know what he's done wrong?"
"Then again, maybe you don't understand why he did what he did."
She noticed that while her punches and kicks were exactly on target, the ferocity with which they had previously landed had lessened. She kept going, wanting to burn off the rage, the anger, but after a few minutes, she found herself with her head against the punching bag. Sweat was pouring off of her, but Susan had been right. She had been so wrapped up in her feelings, her hurt, that she hadn't thought about Chuck and why he did what he did.
God damn it, why did she have to love him so much? She knew she was alone, and she let the tears flow. She thought about that movie he once had her watch, The Princess Bride. While Chuck kept quoting line after line from it, there was one that stuck with her, To the pain. That truly was what this was between the two of them. To the pain. She let out the bottled up emotion.
}o{
After letting herself cry, she had slipped in garage door that was in the back of the house, and had gotten to her room. She showered, and changed, prepping herself to go in there and talk to him like a damn adult. That had never been her strong suit, but she had to. This couldn't continue. She walked to the door when the smell hit her. She opened the door and followed the smell to the kitchen. Chuck was busy cooking, but glanced over his shoulder as she stopped short, watching him. He looked back at the food, but quickly spun, his eyes wide, as if realizing she was there.
"Listen, please don't think this isn't me listening, because it's not," Chuck began quickly. "I noticed you had a list on the fridge of food, and it looked like you were thinking burgers and fries, so I thought I could make them because I need to pull my weight, but if you don't want me to-"
"Chuck," she said gently. "It's okay, thank you." Chuck blew out a sigh of relief. "There's no grill so I was going to put it off for a few days but it seems you figure out how to do it on the stove."
"Yeah, something I picked up when mom and dad were gone," Chuck told her. He turned back to the burger, studied it and when he saw whatever he was looking for, flipped it expertly. "Sarah, I'm sorry."
"I am too," Sarah told him.
"Ellie said we are great communicators, but horrible talkers," Chuck began. He was going to say more, but the sound of Sarah's laughter, something he hadn't heard in a long time, made him turn back to her. She made no attempt to keep it from him, and he smiled, seeing her laugh. "It is the most obvious thing she could say," he added. Sarah's laughter just intensified.
}o{
"I'll start the dishes," Chuck said, starting to rise. Her hand caught his wrist. "Or, you can."
"Sit, we need to talk," she told him. They had eaten in silence, but it wasn't the normal silence between them as late. It seemed to be…less heavy. "You said something earlier about people leaving you."
"It's not important," Chuck began.
"Chuck, don't do that," Sarah told him. "I know, I exploded earlier, I had all my pent up anger, and hurt, and resentment, and I am sorry. In the end, it was a shit idea I came up with, but it was the only idea I could come up with to save you."
"I know," Chuck said. "I know that. And-and, you were right. I've had people leave me, for most of my life. Hell, only Ellie and Morgan haven't." Sarah nodded for him to continue. "Please don't take this the wrong way, but you once said I needed to trust you, not believe you. I understand now what that meant. But you have to understand…Sarah…you are freaking awesome, and even if I had all the confidence in the world, I would still wonder if I was good enough for you."
She shook her head. "I don't know why you do this to yourself," she said softly. "Probably for the same reason I don't voice what I expect…or want, because I'm afraid someone will not choose me."
He laid his hand out on the table, palm up, hesitantly. She looked at it, and then looked at him. She put her hand in his. "You hurt me, Chuck."
"I know," Chuck replied. "And as bad as that is, now I've put you in danger…again."
"I can handle being in danger," she told him.
"See, that's why I question how I'd be enough," Chuck pointed out. She scoffed laughter at that. "So, I have a question, and if it's no, I'll understand."
"Chuck, we have a lot to rebuild," Sarah began.
"I know, and that's why I have to take this first step," Chuck told her. He sat there quietly as she stared at him. She didn't know what to say. That was a damn lie. She knew. She knew exactly what to say. The girl in her was screaming for him to say it. The agent tried to sush her.
Sarah nodded for him to go on.
"Would you," he began, and paused. She felt nerves in her stomach. "Come with me to my bedroom." Jesus, what in the hell was he going to….no…he wouldn't. "And instruct me on how to rebuild my bed?"
"What?" Sarah asked.
"I can't use the Intersect because my emotions are in the way, and I'm never going to calm my emotions if I don't fix this." He paused a second. "And I don't know if I can ever get it back to where we were." She didn't say anything. She didn't know if she agreed with that statement. Right now, she didn't trust herself to say anything. "But, maybe what I can do, is show you that I trust you, and if you tell me how to rebuild the bed, me not seeing the directions, maybe I can begin to fix this."
"Part of it is my fault as well," Sarah reminded him.
"Well, you said you don't tell your expectations, doing it this way, you absolutely can spell them out," he told her.
"Okay," she said with a grin.
"Back to basics," Chuck said.
"Back to basics," Sarah parroted. For the first time since Prague, the hurt in her had lessened.