New Memories: A Bartowski Christmas

By Steampunk . Chuckster

A/N: Here's Part 3. Thanks for the reviews.

Disclaimer: I don't own the show and I'm not making money.

She loved the cold.

That was one reason why winter had always been something of a hardship for her ever since she was a child. Because as much as she loved the winter weather—it didn't matter if it was a blistering blizzard in the midwest or here in Los Angeles where it rarely went lower than thirty degrees at night—there were so many other things she associated with winter that were upsetting. It was conflicting, feeling good about piling layers on in the morning, and wrapping up with a scarf and hat and gloves and boots and cute coats, feeling the refreshing cold bite at her face. But then to see the Christmas decorations and the happy families, remembering the time she distracted the Salvation Army Santa Claus in front of the department store so that her dad could casually take his bucket of donations.

In her later years, she'd tried to assuage her guilt by persuading herself that the Salvation Army was run by prejudiced, ultra-religious dumbos who thought some families deserved Christmas more than others, but even that hadn't worked. How many Christmases had she stolen from how many people? Not that she could remember ever having a normal, happy Christmas.

This would be her first.

Well, not technically. Not technically her first. But her last five Christmases had been erased along with everything else that had happened in the last five years. She tried her hardest not to let that get under her skin, but it legitimately sucked that the last Christmas she remembered she was in the middle of a mission and couldn't even tell you what day it was, she was drowning so completely in her work. Not that she'd cared that she'd missed it. She'd been glad for the distraction.

She wondered when that had changed. What had changed it? Was it a multitude of things? Or was it just Chuck?

There was something about Chuck's inherent jolliness where the holiday was concerned that had now seeped into her so fully that she was almost as excited. Even though she still had doubts about the actual day in question. But she had time yet for that.

She had been a little nervous once "the holiday season" began with Halloween first and then Thanksgiving. The Woodcomb-Awesomes had been in Burbank for Thanksgiving because they wouldn't make Christmas, and the look on Ellie's face when Devon walked into the living room with Clara in a turkey costume? It was the stuff of legends, as Morgan would say.

The new mother was equal parts shocked, weirded out, and entirely…melty was the only word Sarah could come up with. She had berated Devon and swatted his shoulder, but proceeded to cuddle her baby to oblivion. Clara had looked both ridiculous and adorable, Sarah had to admit.

But that hadn't stemmed her nervousness about Christmas. Chuck was like a powder keg of excitement as November transitioned into December and the Autumn decor of cornucopias and pumpkins went away in favor of mistletoes and spices and pine everything. The closer they got to Christmas, the more decorations they put up, buying the tree and having hot cider or egg nog, the more she could practically feel Chuck radiating Christmas spirit. The songs he would hum under his breath seemed so unconscious. Like Christmas was just seeping out of him and he wasn't even aware of it. She couldn't properly describe it…but somedays it was like his body was humming at night beside hers as they lay together in bed.

She was half scared she would wake up on Christmas morning only to find that her husband had exploded from too much Christmas cheer.

Sarah shivered at that imagery. She needed to make the effort to not be present whenever Morgan tried to force his Korean gore flicks on Chuck. Why he insisted they were so great she would never understand. And even Chuck was incredibly dubious.

Gathering her scarf a little tighter to her neck, she finally walked into their courtyard, past the fountain and up to their door. It wasn't yet lunch time, but she was hungry from her brisk walk around the neighborhood. This was the best she could do given the circumstances. It had been too cold for her usual early morning jog.

Although that wasn't at all true. Her laziness and love of Chuck-warmth had persuaded her not to go out for an early morning jog. If this were D.C. and she were her 24 year old self, she would be out jogging in the snow without a care in the world. But this wasn't D.C. and Sarah wasn't 24. She was married and sharing a bed with a man who tended to run warm, even during the winter, she'd only too happily and recently discovered. Being wrapped up in him at six in the morning felt just as good at seven in the morning, she discovered, and even better at eight in the morning. It didn't matter how many times her phone's jog alarm buzzed.

She'd just repeated in her head, "It's too cold this morning", and turned off her phone, nuzzling even closer to her smirking husband. (Funny how she hated smirkers but fell in love with and married one. Although Chuck's smirks were usually prompted by amusement and good-natured teasing.)

By the time they had gotten out of bed and Chuck made her pancakes while she sizzled up some bacon, it was late morning and Sarah's jog turned into a brisk, refreshing stroll.

It had lasted an hour, as her mind had wandered and her feet aimlessly took her much farther than she'd planned.

Sarah Bartowski moved into the apartment and swept her brown beret off of her hair that admittedly suffered from bed-head. Never in her life had she imagined feeling comfortable enough to walk around in front of a man—anyone, really—with bed-head. Even with Bryce, at the height of their affair, she would wake up before him and take a shower, putting on her makeup and fixing her hair.

It wasn't surprising that things with Chuck were so different.

Speak of the devil…

Her husband swept out of the hallway with a large smile on his face, but when he saw her, his eyes widened like he'd seen a ghost and he half-stumbled away from her. She must have had a look on her face like he was nuts, so he collected himself and smiled a bit sheepishly.

"Yes, I-I think maybe we can make that happen."

Only then did Sarah see the phone pressed to his ear. She raised an eyebrow in question and pulled her gloves off. He just swallowed, looking a little pale. When he didn't say anything, she shrugged and gave him a 'hello?' look through her eyelashes.

"I'll talk to her, Emma. But-But if Saturday works for you, maybe we can swing that." He paused and Sarah felt her blood freeze in her veins.

Emma? Like…my mom Emma?

"I want to see her, too. You tell her, uh…" He swallowed again, the look in his eyes confirming her fears. What the hell was going on? "You tell her we both say hello, huh? See you next weekend." Another pause. "Alright, you too. Bye."

When he hung up, setting his phone on the bar and wiping his hands on the thighs of his jeans, she suddenly felt angry. It wasn't fair, but she felt angry anyways. "What was that, Chuck?"

Even as confused and upset and on the verge of panic as she was, she appreciated the way Chuck didn't shy away from her. He just walked up to her, took her hands in his, and spoke in a clear voice. No reluctance. No hedging. He was straight with her.

"Sarah, that was your mom."

"Yeah, I got that. What do you mean, see you next weekend? What did you do?"

He huffed and hung his head for a moment. "Your mom called me, Sarah."

"I got that, too."

"It's just that it's been a few months, longer than that, really, since we saw your mom and your sister…" She felt her face pinch at that. Her sister. When had that happened? When had that baby become her sister? She must be at least six by now. "And she knows about everything that happened, but she—I guess she hopes that since it's Christmas…"

"Chuck, I can't."

She took a long, quivering breath, unconsciously tightening her grip on his hand.

"Baby, at some point you're going to have to see them again."

He was right. Of course he was right, but every part of her wanted to rebel against him, against the fact that everything seemed to be set into motion around her, without her. "So my mom calls you. And tells you to bring me to see her and my s—her daughter—and what? I'm just supposed to get in the car and be okay with all of this?"

"Of course not, Sarah. I was going to talk to you about it, obviously. Right when you got home, which…just so happened to be…right when I was ending the phone call with her." He shrugged. "We can talk about it. It's not a set thing. If you need more time, then…all right."

"I need more time."

"But it's Christmas," Chuck argued, and she could tell he was trying to be gentle, even while he resisted the urge to walk on egg shells with her. She had made him promise after the first time they made love, when everything suddenly felt permanent and set in stone, that he would never tip toe or hedge about the difficult things.

Just because she'd been through a lot, it didn't mean she was fragile or delicate. As long as she had Chuck, she was ready to face her fears. As cheesy and Chuck-centric as that sounded.

Sarah knew she'd been through a lot more than the average person. Losing five years of your memory and having to rediscover your friends and family, the love of your life, it was all too much for any normal woman to bear. But then again, Chuck liked to remind her that she was anything but normal—they were anything but normal.

"Chuck, this is too much for me right now." She let him guide her to the couch, but when he sat down, she pulled away and stayed standing, still wearing her thick olive-green peacoat. "I've had so much catch-up to do the last few months, and-and it was hard enough finding out that Ryker was finally dead, that I didn't have to keep that secret anymore. I haven't seen my mom for over five years, but—but not at the same time, because it feels like just six months ago that I left the baby—"

"Her name is Molly," Chuck gently interrupted.

"I know that!" He winced and she softened, sending him an apologetic look. He didn't deserve to have his head bitten off. And she knew that. "I'm—The timeline of all of this is so screwed up in my head. And it's so hard to put all the pieces together. Knowing that I can see my mom any time I want to now, without having a maniac come after her for that child—Molly—that doesn't make it any easier for me to digest. That doesn't mean I'm gonna jump in my car and speed over to her house. Hi, Mom! Because I'm just not—I'm not ready."

"Is it your mom? Or is it Molly?"

Sarah shook her head because she didn't know. Maybe it was both.

"Things have never been easy between me and my mom, Chuck."

"I know, that. But things…things got a little easier after Ryker. Not completely but a little."

"I don't remember that, Chuck!" she felt the need to remind him, even though she knew it wasn't necessary. "I don't remember killing Ryker. I don't remember coming home, coming back here afterwards, and seeing my mom for the first time in almost five years. I don't remember seeing Molly or spending time with either of them. I don't remember. I don't even know what she looks like. I just have this image in my head of a little baby with blue eyes and hair so blond it was like it wasn't there at all."

Chuck got to his feet and held her shoulders, reaching up then to wipe at a tear on her cheek that she hadn't known was there. "I have pictures. If you want to see them. Of Molly."

He had stashed them away per her request. It had been too soon after he told her about everything that had happened. And even without seeing the pictures, Sarah had cried in confusion and relief, but mostly heartbreak for some reason…all while Chuck held her silently and wonderfully.

"I guess." She sniffed and turned her face further into his palm. He was so warm—always so warm. "But-But that doesn't mean I am willing to go in person on Saturday. That's…that's in less than a week and I can't…There are just too many reasons why I can't."

"We can keep talking about it, Sarah. And if by the time Saturday rolls around and you're not ready, I'll call your mom. I'll tell her we can try some other time."

Sarah didn't voice it, but she wondered if her mother thought she was weak for holding out this long. Or worse than that, she wondered if she thought Sarah hated her. Those had been the words she'd thrown at her when she saw her before her first CIA op. She hadn't told her about joining the CIA until later, but she said she would be going away for a long time. For work. And that she couldn't keep in touch. And her mom asked her if she really and truly hated her that bad.

Did she think that again?

Sarah had never hated either of her parents. But when it really came down to it, neither of them had been there for her throughout her life. Not in the way she needed them to be. Although, to be fair, she'd never made it easy for her mom. Emma had made half-hearted reaches towards Sarah, but it had almost seemed like she was relieved when she met with empty air. Or maybe that was Sarah's mind playing tricks on her because it was easier to do her job when she had no ties to anyone.

It was infantile, but it was just easier.

When her mom left that message on her phone, telling her she would always have a home to come back to, Sarah remembered wondering to herself what had changed. Then Ryker had appeared and the night that changed her life happened.

Her mother was the only person who she trusted with that baby. With Molly. And apparently her trust had paid off.

According to Chuck, Molly was a happy, healthy, normal little six year old. She played soccer and took dance lessons after school and was good at math. She was also apparently very shy. And liked to sing.

She hadn't been able to listen to much more about her, so he'd kept quiet about the details for the rest of the night.

But now everything was threatening to crush her again. How could she stand in front of a shy six year old little girl who had only been a baby six months ago? And act like she remembered spending time with her, and conversations they'd had? Act like she wasn't scared out of her mind?

And seeing her mom again?

How was she supposed to do this? How was she supposed to build a relationship with Emma now that they were at square one? Well, she was at square one. Her mom wasn't. For all she knew, the old Sarah had become best friends with her mom ever since Ryker died.

Chuck pulled her away from their tree, down the hallway, and into their bedroom. She took the opportunity to shrug her coat off, as the heater on top of her own panic was making her overly warm now. She watched as he dug through their drawer and pulled out a stack of photographs. "I haven't had a chance to put them in an album or anything, what with everything we've been doing with Carmichael Industries, but here they are."

He hesitated in front of her only a moment before offering them to her.

She took the stack and sat on the bed and he watched quietly, seemingly unsure about where he should be. So Sarah looked up at him and patted the mattress next to her. The eagerness in his movement as he joined her on the bed was incredibly endearing and she found herself smiling a little in spite of everything.

Then she began flipping through the pictures, seeing the straight-haired, blond little girl with blue eyes, a shy but happy smile on her face as she held a soccer ball, wearing her purple uniform with the little AYSO emblem in the corner of her jersey. And then she stopped, her eyes swimming, because there was one of Chuck and Molly.

He was sitting at their kitchen table with Molly on his lap. She was busily writing on a large paper heart with a marker that seemed to have already bled all over her hand, and partly on Chuck's too, somehow. And Chuck was making a face at the camera, his lips pursed and his face all wrinkled up. "That was Valentine's Day. I still have that card."

Sarah nodded, tucking that picture in the back of the stack and letting out a long breath at the next one. She and Molly were sitting on the red couch in the living room, leaning in towards each other, and Molly looked almost like a miniature version of herself. Her hands were shyly tucked in between her knees and she was grinning happily, but maybe a little nervous. Sarah looked nervous too, but she knew by the beaming smile on her face that she was also happy. Really happy.

She set the photographs down on the bed next to her and sighed heavily, feeling Chuck's lips against her temple. "You okay?"

"Mhm." She sniffed and wiped at her eyes, letting out another heavy breath. "This sucks so much."

His arms were around her and she took the opportunity to climb onto his lap, clinging to him tightly and turning her face into his hair. "I'm sorry, Sarah. I wish it was different, but…"

"It isn't. I know. I have to come to terms with this someday. I have a little sister."

"A little sister who needs you," he added.

She pulled back and looked into his face. "She doesn't need me. She has my mom. And friends. A normal life."

"It was through your efforts that she has a chance at that normal life. Sarah, even though you don't remember this, you're a part of that normal life now. You're her big sister." He paused and she felt him tense a little. She steeled herself, knowing he was about to say something that he didn't relish saying. "Just like you had to come to terms with the fact that you were married to a man you didn't know or love," his voice caught a little and she squeezed her eyes shut tightly, willing the heartache away because things were different and better than that now, "you're a part of this little girl's life. And it doesn't matter how long it takes, you have to get back to a place where you can feel comfortable spending time with her and your mom again. She deserves that."

Chuck pulled her against him again and she clung harder, her lips against his hair. "I love you, Chuck, even though you make things difficult for me."

He chuckled and gave her an affectionate squeeze. "That's true love, Sarah."

And as much as she feared the next week of her life, she melted in his arms.

Because he was right.

It was true love.

A/N: Thanks for reading. Please review. More tomorrow.

-SC