A/N: The hard work of crafting a solution to try and help Chuck. Such is the hope of his friends. Meanwhile, he continues to be buffeted by the tempest of his memories.
Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck. I make no money from Chuck.
Chapter 32 – Help!
Sunday April 28 - Stanford Hospital ICU – after 9:15pm, the day after Chuck's injury
The small group that was standing and looking out the window was stunned into utter silence. A sea of people was outside and they were all singing to Chuck. Singing their love and support to him and the people who were caring for him. Singing to Stephen. To Mary. To Ellie. And to Sarah. But, most of all, to Chuck. There wasn't a dry eye among the group and that included the three latest arrivals. Chuck had touched all their lives in one way or another, as he had the people outside the hospital. The silence was broken when Sarah's emotions got the better of her and she began to sob, only to be wrapped in the arms of the equally affected Mary and Ellie Bartowski.
"He is certainly a remarkable young man", Dr. Bainbridge murmured, drying his eyes. "If those people out there only knew how remarkable …" His comment and the tone of his voice caught Mary Bartowski's attention.
"What do you mean, Dr. Bainbridge?" she asked tersely, struggling to dry her tears. She didn't notice her husband trying to get the older man's attention. Neither did he.
"Just that the plans he'd made over the last year and a half were nothing if not audacious," Stanford's president admitted.
"What are you talking about?" Mary wanted to know. Before the older man could continue, Chuck's father interrupted.
"I don't think this is the time to be discussing this," Stephen said, attempting to dissuade the university's president from elaborating.
"Stephen, what's the point of keeping the secret any longer?" Dr. Bainbridge asked. "Chuck's decision rendered it all moot months ago, anyway. His current predicament won't change it any further."
"What secret?" Mary demanded. "What's going on? What did Chuck have planned?" She glared at her husband, whose shoulders slumped in resignation. The president caught Stephen's eye and when he nodded sadly, Dr. Bainbridge explained.
"Chuck's goal, in coming to Stanford, was to attempt to attend all of his universities simultaneously. Work on research and degrees for each school. Do it all physically here at Stanford with remote guidance from advisors at the other institutions," Bainbridge said.
"You mean ten projects wasn't enough work for Chuck?" Mary scowled. Turning to face Stephen directly, she went on, "Did you put him up to this, Stephen?" She glared angrily at her husband. He shook his head vehemently.
"No, Mary. No, I didn't put Charles up to anything. Why would I? It was all his idea," Stephen held his hands out in surrender. "From the very beginning. It was his idea. Charles started talking about it back when he was still in Boston. When the people there didn't reject it out of hand, he went on to discuss it with the faculty and administrators at Oxford and Cambridge during his time over there." He shrugged. "While he was back home last year, he took the time to talk it over at UCLA and CalTech. With their buy-in, all he had to do was convince the Stanford people. He did that when he first arrived here last fall."
"Why would he want to do such a thing?" Mary wondered. Sarah was dumbfounded at what she was hearing. She looked at Ellie and she was equally stunned.
"Why?" Stephen was incredulous. "Why? Because we've pushed him his entire life, Mary. That's why. His teachers in school, too. Even his professors at each university he's attended along the way. Think of everything he was doing in Boston, including handling law and business school on top of it all. He was as interested as anyone to find out what his limits were."
"Who knew about this? Why wasn't I told?" Mary gritted her teeth in anger.
"Only the four of us knew it all," Dr. Bainbridge stepped in. "Me, Miguel, Stephen, and Chuck. The other schools knew he was working with Stanford and their school, but they never knew he was also working with the other universities."
"How many PhDs are you talking about?" Mary said with a note of fear in her voice.
"Forty," Dr. Loveless finally spoke up. There was a shocked gasp from the surrounding group. "The same ten degrees he's pursuing here at Stanford repeated at each of the other three sets of schools. With different research topics, of course." Mary looked aghast, but Dr. Bainbridge raised his hand to forestall her giving voice to the fury evident on her face.
"We tried to talk Chuck out of it," Bainbridge sounded apologetic. "Tried to tell him that it was too much work, even for him. That it wasn't just taking classes, reading fast and absorbing a lot of information, and then taking tests. He's a past master at doing that. No, it was all of that research. The actual real time that research takes. But he insisted that he try." The older man shrugged again.
"That's why he was so concerned about taking those tests last fall," Sarah said as the truth dawned on her. "He wasn't just taking ten gateway tests. He was taking forty of them." Dr. Bainbridge and Dr. Loveless were both nodding.
"That's right, Miss Walker," the president acknowledged.
"Now, it all makes sense," Sarah's eyes widened as she nodded. "But you said Chuck had made a decision that rendered everything moot. What decision?"
"Yes, he did," Dr. Bainbridge said, nodding. "Back in January, when he was ramping up his research and was neck deep in baseball practice at the same time, he realized that he couldn't do it all, as he'd hoped. He had to scale his plans back." Sarah's eyebrows quirked questioningly and Bainbridge smiled. "Chuck realized that he only had twenty-four hours in the day. The same as the rest of us." Sarah glanced over at Ellie and Mary. All three women huffed in exasperated frustration and shook their heads, but she could tell that Chuck's mother was still angry.
"Human after all," Sarah giggled. She would have something to say to him about keeping secrets when he woke up, that's for sure. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Ellie snort and roll her eyes.
"So, it seems," Loveless agreed. "Baseball took up a lot more time than he really understood until he was in the middle of it. He knew it intellectually, of course, but the physical reality didn't catch up to him until then. Even after all of the time baseball took up in the fall, it didn't fully register, but once he was out of the purely mental side of grad school and into the physical research, then it hit him full force. He might be able to juggle a lot of research projects at once, but he can't power through them like he would the academic work. Not with all of the time baseball demands."
"It didn't help that some of his proposed research for his Stanford degrees turned out to be bigger than he, or we, first anticipated. And that he was doing all of it by himself," Dr. Bainbridge chimed in.
"So, he decided to drop his attempt to get degrees at the other schools?" Mary asked. "Settle for just getting degrees here at Stanford?"
"I wouldn't exactly call getting ten PhDs from Stanford, settling, Mary," Stephen replied.
"I'm not done with you yet," Mary frowned. "You still haven't told me why you kept this a secret from me." It was Stephen's turn to glare at his wife.
"You still haven't figured that out?" Stephen grumped. "After the way you've been reacting to finding out now?"
"You could have told me back then," Mary complained, embarrassed that this discussion was taking place here and now. And in front of others. Friends, most of them, but still.
"Charles didn't want to tell you," Stephen responded. Mary drew in her chin in surprise. "He didn't want to get into an argument about it. It wouldn't have changed anything, given that he's independent of us and doesn't require our permission to do what he wants. It would have only led to hard feelings that he wanted to avoid after being away for all of those years. And alone," he added sadly. That statement took the wind out of Mary's sails and she relented, nodded in understanding.
"Ten PhDs is a lot of work for one man to attempt," Mary groused. "Even for someone as gifted as Chuck. I told him that when he first told us his plans for attending Stanford."
"He's already set to hire research assistants once his proposals are approved and he moves into the new building with all of that extra space," Dr. Loveless explained. "He won't be working on his own at that point. Our hope is that his life is a lot more manageable for him once that happens."
"Good," Sarah quietly said, but not so quiet that she wasn't heard and received some grins in return.
"I would also add that he hasn't dropped his attempt to get degrees from the other universities entirely," Dr. Bainbridge commented.
"Now what are you talking about?" Mary wanted to know, sounding irritated again.
"Just that all of the other schools accepted that he couldn't do all of that work at the same time, so they extended open invitations to temporarily suspend his degree pursuit at their institutions and allow him to pick it back up at any time in the future, should he still wish to do so. Your son is a hot commodity in the academic world, Dr. Bartowski." Mary's eyebrows shot up at the president's revelation and was going to comment further, but he had turned his attention in Sarah's direction.
"You were a big part of Chuck's decision, too, Miss Walker," Dr. Bainbridge smiled. "It seems he discovered he enjoyed spending time with you more than he enjoyed working longer hours in the lab on more research projects. I can't imagine why he felt that way." There was a twinkle in the president's eye.
Sarah couldn't help the broad grin that covered her face. "I'm not sorry about that in the slightest. Science will just have to wait," she chuckled, much to the amusement of the assembled people.
"If you say anything about experimenting, I'm going to gag," Ellie teased. Sarah blushed, but her grin widened.
"That is my son you're talking about, ladies," Mary admonished the two young women, but she couldn't hide her smirk.
"Oh, I know, Dr. Bartowski. Believe me, I know," Sarah pressed her lips together in a closed-mouth smile as she raised her eyebrows and widened her eyes in acknowledgement. Her blush deepened, too. There were more chuckles from the group.
"And on that note, I think we need to call it a night," Stephen looked pointedly at his watch. "We all need a good night's sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a busy day. We've got a lot of recordings to make."
"And my boyfriend to save," Sarah whispered, fighting sudden tears.
Sarah decided to forgo another trip into Chuck's room with its associated ritual of enrobing her in that sterile suit. She felt guilty, but all of the accumulated stress of the last few days had caught up with her. Sarah was exhausted, physically and emotionally. And she still had a phone call that she needed to make. It was way past time for her to talk to her mother. Sarah wanted to be safely back in her suite when she did that, surrounded by her closest friends. She refused to think about the 'friend' that wouldn't be there for the call. It was going to be another emotionally taxing exercise.
With those thoughts in mind, Sarah walked back to Chuck's room to thank the night shift nurses, Dora Parker and Danielle Fu, who smiled their appreciation and promised to take good care of Chuck until she was able to come back the next day. Then she joined the Bartowskis and Devon at the window to look in on her boyfriend one last time before heading back to Roble Hall. The nurses had kindly opened the drapes just so they could have a final visit for the evening, while the other members of the group stood behind them providing support. After some long minutes filled with private thoughts and silent prayers, the quintet shared tired nods before leading the entire group as they made their way down the hall for the trip to the atrium and the exit. When they arrived in the atrium, Sarah could see through the main doors to the crowd that was still gathered in the open space.
Just outside the sliding doors, the group exchanged handshakes and hugs before breaking up. Stephen and Mary walked off with Langston and Anna Graham. Ellie and Devon followed John Casey and Kathleen McHugh. Drs. Bainbridge and Loveless walked along with Chuck's parents' group toward the parking deck. Reverend Snodgrass went to join his choir and the Colts. Sarah made sure to thank the choir members for taking the time to come out and sing to Chuck so beautifully. She shared another round of hugs and quiet words with the Colts, as well. Once they had departed, Sarah was left alone for the first time in a long while. She closed her eyes to gather herself, then she opened them to look for her friends, but not before offering another silent prayer for Chuck and sending all of her love to him for good measure.
After catching sight of her friends, Sarah moved through the gentle crowd toward the CATS. People, who recognized her, reached out to pat her arm or shoulder. Some softly squeezed her arm. Everyone was murmuring words of support for Chuck. And for her. She smiled and thanked everyone she could. It was quickly becoming overwhelming. The sheer amount of raw emotion Sarah felt inside herself and radiating off of the people around her made it almost hard to breathe. Luckily, the CATS had been working their way through the crowd toward her as she was moving toward them. Just before it became too much and she was going to break down again, they found her and scooped her up into their protective circle for the walk back to the sanctuary of their shared room. The surrounding crowd nodded their understanding and parted to ease the women's passage, offering well wishes for a restful and dreamless good night's sleep. Many of the people called out assurances that they would be there when she got back the next day.
Her army would watch over their fallen comrade throughout the night, so she could rest easy, secure in the knowledge that the swell of prayers and good wishes would continue to enfold both Chuck and his attendants through the long hours of darkness. She didn't know they did the same for her.
The four women remained silent until they were sure that they were out of earshot of the crowd milling around outside the new hospital building. After crossing both sides of Pasteur Drive and starting south on Jordan Way, the older CATS figured they were safe from listening ears and could talk to Sarah.
"How are you holding up, Blondie?" Carina asked, keeping her arms linked with Sarah's as they headed home.
"I'm wrung out, Red," Sarah admitted. "The last seventy-two hours has been a lot. And I'm not just talking about … um … Chuck." She frowned, pressing her lips together firmly. "It's everything. The trip to New York. All the stuff yesterday. The competition. Winning. All of that was one big emotional rollercoaster." Her friends nodded.
"You got that right, Sarah," Zondra agreed.
"Then there's everything that's happened since then," the young blonde shrugged. "Chuck getting hurt and everything that goes with it. The sheer terror that he was dead. The agony of being so helpless and far away. That insane plane trip back here. My fear that we'd land only to find out that he had died while we were flying back. Then being in there with Chuck all day. It felt like it lasted for days and days instead of just hours and hours. Sitting with him. Doing those tests. Knowing he's alive. Not in a normal coma, but lost in his head. All of that planning. You and everyone singing just now. All of it," she heaved a sigh. "Am I a bad person for leaving him alone because I'm too weak to stay with him any longer?" The elder CATS wanted to cry and laugh at her foolish self-flagellation.
"You're an idiot, Sarah," Carina groused. When her younger roommate glared at her, she continued. "You're not a bad person. Leaving doesn't mean that you don't love him enough or some other stupid shit love song crap. It just means that you're human. And humans only have so much they can give and do before they use it all up and need to rest and recharge or they'll collapse themselves."
"That's right, Sarah," Amy chimed in. "You need to get some sleep. Hell, we all do and we did get some sleep earlier today, unlike you. You're no good to Chuck if you're passed out asleep when you want to be there for him and talking to him. And we can't help you, if we're zonked out, either." Sarah twisted her lips in a half-smirk and raised her eyebrows while she nodded at the truth of what Amy was saying.
"That's right," Carina interjected in a very serious tone. "We need to get our beauty rest. Otherwise, how can we help you?" Sarah saw a glint in her eye, but was too tired to recognize it for what it was before the redhead went on. "And how can we help ourselves to some of those smexy doctors if we aren't ready to bring our 'A' game? I ask you?" Sarah's snorted laugh pleased the older woman.
"I knew there was an angle for you in there, Red. I just had to find it," Sarah grinned, shaking her head. "Thanks for pointing it out to me. I was too tired to see it for myself."
"It's that getting lemons and making lemonade thing," Carina joked.
"Yeah, I got it. I got it. Thanks." Now Sarah laughed. "What would I do without y'all?" All three of her friends noticed what she'd just said, their matching wide eyes told the tale. That was a new one. Zondra was the first to recover her wits.
"Without us, you'd probably have a passel of kids with that Handsy Hank guy by now," the brunette snarked. Sarah cackled.
"Oh, you can bite me right now, Z," she laughed grumpily. "Bite me, right this very minute." The other three CATS joined her in practiced and put-on laughter, lightening the mood to be able to deal with the more frightening reality they were all avoiding thinking about.
By now, they'd left the hospital grounds and medical school campus and wound their way to the North-South Axis just above the Gates Computer Science Building. The walkway gave them an almost unbroken and straight walk south, back to the dorm. The other women heard Sarah whispering to herself as they passed each of the buildings in turn. This was the heart of Chuck's academic stomping grounds. They didn't know what she was whispering, but they understood the sentiment. When they got closer to Roble Hall, they encountered some other students going about their evenings. Those that recognized them and their connection to Chuck, voiced their concern and offered best wishes for his speedy recovery. There weren't a lot of people and it wasn't all that great an ordeal, but it taxed them almost to the end of their intertwined ropes anyway. Too much had happened over too short a period of time. Thankfully, they were able to hold it together until they got into their suite where they could ease their worries in a river of tears. Let it all out and relieve some of the stress. As the foursome were wiping their eyes and noses, Sarah made her request.
"I need to call my mom," she said apologetically. "I know it's late, but it's past time that I called her." Sarah shrugged. "I should have called her already. I'm sure she's heard at least something about what's happened on the news or wherever. She must be worried sick." She thought for a moment," In fact, I'm kind of surprised that she hasn't tried to call me yet."
"That's because I called her a while ago, Sarah," Carina smiled gently. "When you were in that office planning stuff out to help Chuck this afternoon. I told her what had happened with our phones being locked away last night preventing you from calling or texting her before everything got crazy. And I told her a little about what you were busy doing this afternoon and that you'd call as soon as you could." She ducked her head. "I hope I didn't mess up and overstep." Sarah's mouth opened in surprise. Carina never apologized for doing stuff like that. But the blonde's surprise expression curled into a grateful smile.
"Thanks, Carina," Sarah said sincerely. "You're a lifesaver." She hugged her auburn-haired friend. "I need to make that call just the same."
"You want us to leave, Sarah?" Amy asked.
"No," Sarah shook her head. "There's nothing that I'll say that y'all don't already know. I might even put it on speaker. As long as Mom doesn't object. She'd probably like to hear from all of y'all anyway." There was that word again. Her friends had to bite the inside of their cheeks to keep from grinning. Sarah was obviously saying it unconsciously.
Sarah pulled her phone out of her purse and tapped on her mom's picture. Before the first ring was even finished, the call had been answered.
"Sarah!" Emma exclaimed.
"Hi, Mom," Sarah replied in the same apologetic tone she'd used when she'd still lived at home and had done something she expected to get reprimanded for.
"Are you OK? How are you holding up?" her mom asked, worriedly. No reprimand, just concern. Just like always.
"I'm doing about as well as you'd expect," she admitted. "Hanging in there. Barely."
"How's Chuck?"
"What do you know?"
"Just what Carina told us," Emma answered. "And what we saw on the evening news." Sarah was surprised.
"The evening news? In Coronado?" The CATS eyebrows all shot up in surprise.
"Yup!"
"What did they say?" Sarah asked, but before her mother could answer, she stopped her. "Mom, wait! Do you mind if I put the call on speaker? The girls are here with me. They've been my rocks through all of this."
"Sure, baby girl. You can put us on speaker."
Sarah tapped the speaker icon. "OK, Mom. You're now on speaker."
"Hi, girls," Emma said, always happy to talk to Sarah's friends, even in these circumstances.
"Hi, Mrs. Burton," the CATS chorused.
"Quite a weekend you ladies had … are having."
"Yes, Ma'am. It has been," Zondra responded.
"It still is," Amy added.
"Congratulations on winning the championship, by the way," Emma said. The pride evident in her voice. "Molly looked it up online. Very impressive and very much deserved."
"Thank you, Mom," Sarah said with a chorus of 'Thanks' from her three friends.
"You are most welcome."
"Now what's this about Chuck being on the news?"
"Just that they reported about him getting injured yesterday at the game," Emma said. "It might have been on the late news last night, but we didn't watch that broadcast."
"What'd they say? Was there much detail?" Sarah wanted to know.
"They repeated the report about his injury. Then they played parts of the press conference where his doctors were giving the details of the surgery and treatment he was receiving."
"OK, so you know pretty much what I know about his condition."
"Sarah, they showed what you said, too," Emma said warmly. Sarah didn't see her friends beginning to grin again.
"They did?" Sarah was incredulous.
"They did," Emma confirmed. "The reporters said you were very eloquent. I must say I agree with them. I'm proud of you, sweetie." She could hear her mother cough. "It was also clear to everyone watching that you're in love with Chuck. It was all over your face and in your voice. Plain as day."
"That's what we keep telling her, Mrs. Burton," Carina chuckled, followed by the other two older CATS. Sarah shook her head and pursed her lips as she eyed her friends.
"I'm not trying to hide it from anyone anymore," Sarah admitted. "Except, maybe, from Chuck. He's been dealing with so much new stuff this year; you don't even know."
"I understand, Sarah. I remember what you told us about him before," Emma spoke soothingly to her daughter. "He'll get it all sorted out, once he recovers from this injury."
"I hope so, Mom. I really do. Both that he'll recover and that he'll realize what his feelings are."
"He will, sweetie. I'm sure of it. You've been very patient with him and I'm very proud of you for that. Your roommates all think he's very special," her mother said, her voice full of love and gentle amusement.
"Oh, they do, do they? Well, he is special and I'm so glad my roommates agree" Sarah eyed her suitemates once more, but only received shrugs and defiant pouts in return. She snorted and shook her head.
"Now, tell me what you are planning to do to help him recover, so he can get on with figuring out how he feels about my wonderful daughter." More chuckles from the peanut gallery gathered around her.
"Everyone's a comedian," she grumped before sobering. Time to get serious again, she sighed. She'd enjoyed the light interlude more than she'd first realized. "Here's what we came up with."
Sarah proceeded to tell her mother all about the tests they'd run and the subsequent plans she had made with Chuck's family and friends. It took a while. Emma had even offered to record something for Chuck in Polish, thinking that the different language might cause a jolt to his brain. Sarah thought it was a good idea, but since Chuck hadn't met her mom yet, nor even talked with her over the phone, he wouldn't recognize her voice, so she thanked her mom profusely for her sweet and thoughtful offer, but she had to turn her down. The idea of speaking to Chuck in foreign languages was interesting, though. Maybe the CATS and the Songbirds, who knew other languages, could try recording some stuff to say to Chuck, especially Lilly since there was that episode with Chuck and her grandparents last fall. She'd have to talk to the Bartowskis about that in the morning. In any event, Emma was impressed with what her daughter had conceived to help her boyfriend. Sarah promised to keep her mom more in the loop in the future. After some final words of praise and encouragement, they decided to call it a night. They ended the phone call with some teary good-byes when the emotions began to get the better of everyone. What a day! What a couple of days!
Sarah felt like some of the weight on her shoulders had lifted just a little after talking with her mom. With the last of her adrenaline reserves finally expended, she prepared for bed and climbed in. Thankfully the conversation with her mother put her into a hopeful frame of mind, so that her dreams were full of the happy memories of her friends, laughter, and Chuck allowing her to truly relax and get a full night of much needed restful sleep.
Monday April 29 – Stanford Hospital ICU – about 11:00am, two days after Chuck's injury
Mary was sitting in Chuck's ICU room, decked out in the entire sterile ensemble. She certainly understood the need for it and agreed with the protocol, but it did make her uncomfortable and interfered with her ability to touch and interact with her son. Hampered her ability to comfort him and herself. There wasn't much else she could do, though, until everyone finished making their recordings and they all were spliced together into a single album. Or playlist. Or whatever it was called. Mary sang songs, but had no idea about the technical side of how albums were created. Or even if they were still called albums. She knew people who did know, but had never bothered to ask those questions before. Mary understood that the engineers helping them in their effort were going to have to link in the different introductions that Sarah was recording to the various songs and voice recordings that were being made. And that was a huge effort for them and for her. Thinking about Sarah brought a brief smile to her face.
Meeting Chuck's girlfriend the day before had been a wonderful and, at the same time, wrenching experience considering the circumstances surrounding the event. A meeting that should have been joyous, but wasn't. Despite the blanket of sadness and uncertainty that was draped over every action since Saturday afternoon, Sarah's personality and charisma shined brightly nonetheless. From what both Ellie and Chuck had told her about how her son and the striking young blonde had met (she still wanted to hear the story again from Sarah's perspective), he had literally stumbled into the unlikeliest, but luckiest and most rewarding, relationship of his life.
Chuck had been ready for a change when he arrived at Stanford and Sarah was absolutely the catalyst for that change. Ellie had convinced Mary of that fact. Drawing him out of his shell and jumpstarting his romantic emotions for the first time ever. Well, for the first time since his string of agonizing rejections that had culminated in that disaster at Oxford at any rate. Ellie had told her that Sarah and her roommates, along with the other Songbirds, hadn't done anything particularly special. They'd just been friendly and welcoming, if a little curious when Chuck didn't immediately tell them his life story, like most young male 'freshmen' would have done when confronted by a dozen beautiful and talented women. Especially women who didn't ridicule him or toss him out on his ear two seconds after he opened his mouth.
But he had evidently charmed them enough (one of the things that she wanted to hear about, there was so much about her own son of which she knew next to nothing to her constant regret) for them to include him in their group and larger circle of friends. They hadn't pressed him on anything, at first, so he'd succeeded in his goal of getting people to like him for himself before his myriad of secrets came to light. Most of them, at least, she grumped to herself. She would be interested to find out what would happen when Sarah eventually confronted him about his original plans for his PhD work. Mary was still hurt that she'd been excluded, but was self-aware enough to admit that she would have fruitlessly argued with Chuck over the issue. From what Dr. Bainbridge and Miguel had said, Chuck was adamant about his plans until he tried to deal with the reality they entailed. Luckily, he quickly scaled back his ambitions to merely crazy instead of out-and-out insane. She snorted and smiled affectionately at her son's still form.
Chuck wasn't the only young man the singers had welcomed and embraced as a friend, but Morgan, too! Morgan! Imagine! Chuck's socially awkward friend had even found a bright young woman of his own. He had more exposure to and experience with girls than Chuck did, but that wasn't really saying very much, since Chuck had virtually no experience at all. Although Mary hadn't said more than a few words to the pretty brunette, she'd been impressed. She was sure that Morgan must have done some maturing of his own in order to catch the attention of Alex McHugh. It seemed like coming to Stanford had done a world of good for both young men. And that brought her thoughts back to Sarah.
Sarah had met them at the Braun Music Center not long after breakfast earlier that morning. They'd discussed Emma Burton's idea of having people speak to Chuck in some of the foreign languages that he knew. It was an interesting idea to consider.
"Who are you thinking about, Sarah?" Mary had wanted to know.
"Just the Songbirds who spoke with him in foreign languages last fall when he was beginning to share his whole story with us," Sarah had explained.
"Why just them?" Stephen had wanted to know, scratching the back of his head, another very Chuck-like action.
"Because, we're the only people here at Stanford who've spoken to Chuck in anything other than English since he got here, as far as I know," she shrugged. "Maybe the only people who've done so in a long while, so anyone else wouldn't be recent enough to be any help in getting Chuck to focus on the present and come back to us."
"That makes sense," Mary agreed. "I'd start with the woman, you told us about, whose grandparents Chuck helped during Homecoming. Lilly, was it? Was that the time he spoke the most? Or was it when you girls were talking to him later?"
"Yeah, that was Lilly and her grandparents," Sarah had nodded. "But no one was there to hear what they said and they only recounted it to Lilly later that day. It was probably the most normal conversation, though, so it does make sense to have Lilly remind Chuck of it. The rest of us could say something like 'Chuck, please wake up. We want you to come hang out with us' or 'Wake up so we can sing to you' or something like that in the different languages. I'll talk it over with the girls when we get together later today to record the Songbirds stuff. Does that sound OK to you?"
"That sounds great, Sarah," Chuck's mom had smiled. "Anything that you can think of that will help to spark recent memories is a good thing to include. The more recent the event, the better."
Sarah had thanked them both and rushed off to her morning classes and seminars while Diane helped Stephen and Mary record the things that they wanted to have included for Chuck to hear. After their recording session was over, the older couple had enjoyed a leisurely, restorative stroll across campus while they reminisced about all of their fond memories of their time there as students while on their way to the Stanford Hospital. When they'd gotten there, amazed that the crowd of people was still outside, Mary had encouraged Stephen to suit up and go visit with Chuck while she spoke to the daytime nurses monitoring his condition, as they'd already missed the doctors on their rounds. Unfortunately, there hadn't been any change and even though she hadn't expected there to be, she was still disappointed. Stephen had come out a short while ago and allowed her to console him. Then it was her turn to go through the dressing process before she took her current place by Chuck's side. She'd been sitting with him and talking about anything she could think of for a while now.
"Do you remember, Chuck," Mary smiled and gently squeezed his arm. "When your Aunt Kay and Uncle Lee brought Kyle over last Thanksgiving? You and Ellie were being so terrible to each other that morning. Both of you were missing Devon and Sarah." She laughed at the memory. "Your dad and I almost called them and cancelled. We were glad that you two worked it out. Aunt Kay's family coming for Thanksgiving has been a tradition since you were a little boy. It would have been a shame to miss out last year. Do you remember those old times, too, Chuck? What fun you and Ellie have had over the years with your cousins. All four of them. Even with the gaps in age, everyone got along. That's a miracle in itself." Mary chuckled again as the cascade of memories washed over her.
All of a sudden, another memory rose, unbidden, to the forefront of her mind. A memory of an early Thanksgiving right after Chuck had turned three. It had been the day before the actual holiday and Chuck had one of his early episodes. Mary had been so frightened. She didn't know what to do, still didn't really know what to do all these years later. It was beyond all of her knowledge and training. How to help her son? When she didn't even understand what he was suffering from at that point. What he still suffered from and always would. She'd cried that afternoon, worried sick. Helpless and ashamed. And then, out of the blue, he'd just woken up, scared and confused. She'd dried his tears and comforted him, but she hadn't been able to tell him what was happening. Not back then. It had all come out again, later that night, when she'd cried in Stephen's arms, feeling worthless for failing to help and protect her sweet little boy. The memories were too much, here in this room with Chuck suffering his worst episode ever, and she began to cry, like she had those long years ago. Reliving those old memories that were compounded by Chuck's current predicament.
And somehow, Chuck heard her crying. In his drifting state, Chuck's mind processed the sound and called up one of his oldest and most proscribed memories. Through no fault of her own, Mary triggered one of Chuck's darkest secrets. His most hidden shame.
Chuck is 3 years old, the night before Thanksgiving
Chuck woke up, confused. He had heard a sound and lay there for a few moments, trying to determine where it was coming from. It wasn't in his room; he was sure of it. He quietly crept out of bed since he knew it was definitely past his bedtime. Mommy and Daddy had made it very clear that he needed to go to bed and stay there. Get his sleep. Especially after the scary thing that had happened that afternoon. When he recalled opening his eyes and seeing the relieved smile on Mommy's face, he also remembered where he'd heard the noise before. It had been right before he'd opened his eyes and seen Mommy with tears running down her face. Why had she been crying and smiling at the same time? It didn't make any sense and he'd asked about it. All Mommy would say was she was crying tears of happiness. Chuck wasn't so sure. He shook off the memory and slowly opened his door, peeking out. The sound was more distinct now and it was coming from his parents' room. It did sound like crying. He hitched up his Star Wars pajamas, then softly and slowly made his way down the hall to the door of his parents' room. When he got there, he saw it was cracked open just a little and peeked inside. Mommy was crying again and Daddy was holding on to her and rubbing her back. He looked upset, too.
"I don't know what to do, Stephen," Mommy sobbed. "Chuck's got something wrong with him and I have no idea what it could be. That's the second time he's had one of those fits or seizures or I'm not sure what. That I know of. There could have been more that neither of us saw. I have no way of knowing." Mommy shook her head and Daddy frowned. "They just happen. No warning. At all. His eyes suddenly roll back in his head and he collapses. For no reason. Then he wakes up. Again, for no reason. At least none that I can see." Daddy hugged Mommy tight.
"We'll just have to take him in for some tests, Mary," Daddy said. "What else can we do? We need information if we want to help Charles get better. Find out how to make him better. If he can get better." There were tears in Daddy's eyes now, too. They hugged each other and cried.
Chuck's face burned with shame. It was his fault that Mommy and Daddy were upset. He was making them cry. He was a bad boy. He must be, to be making his parents' cry like that. He wanted to cry, but didn't. He wanted to run into his parents' room and apologize and promise never to be a bad boy again. But he didn't do that, either. He wasn't supposed to even be out of bed. Being out of bed made him a bad boy, too, so he crept back to his room, quietly shut the door, and climbed back into his bed. There, he finally cried silent tears into his Charlie Brown sheets, so he didn't upset his parents any more. And he promised himself that he'd always be a good boy. He'd never hurt his Mommy and Daddy again.
…
But he did hurt them, again and again. He broke his promise and failed repeatedly. That first memory unleashed a torrent of dark memories that pulled him down into the depths of his mind. Every one of his episodes. He relived them all. Their aftermath. Each of his failures. He experienced hurting the people that loved and cared for him over and over again. Mommy. Daddy. Ellie. Morgan. Gommy and Granddaddy. Grandma and Granddad. Cole and Gillian Barker. So many others. People that he loved in return, but continued to hurt. Their pain was all his fault. He was a terrible person. Cursed beyond redemption. Until the last time. The final hurt. The worst one of all. His memory assaulted him.
…
His swing was perfect. The ball was coming right back up the middle! Right back at him! Oh no! Chuck was still in the process of sliding to the ground and had no control. He tried to throw his head back out of the path of the ball. Too late! Sarah! Sadness overwhelmed him as he tried to turn his face away.
…
Many thoughts flashed through his mind in the microseconds before the baseball hit him, etched there for the rest of his life.
…
I'm sorry, Sarah. I'm sorry that I'm going to hurt you, too. You of all people. I never wanted to hurt you, but I hurt everyone I care about. All I ever wanted was to be normal, but I can't. I wish it could be different, but I told you I was cursed. Forget me when I'm gone. Be happy. Find love. I'm not worth it. Good-bye, my dearest.
…
White hot fire poured into his skull. The pain was beyond excruciating. He felt everything exactly like he had in the actual moment.
…
The blackness and guilt consumed Chuck completely as he fell back into depths of the abyss. Lost and alone.
…
Chuck flinched. Just a tiny little fraction, but it was enough. Mary felt it where she grasped his arm. And she saw. Reaching under the face shield, she dried her eyes on a tissue. She needed to ask the nurses what they saw and what the machines said. There was hope.
Monday April 29 – Lakeside Dining Hall – after 12:30pm, two days after Chuck's injury
Sarah had already had a very busy day and it wasn't even half over. She was thankful that she had been able to get a very good night's sleep last night, all things considered. After waking, showering, and downing a hurried breakfast, she'd run off to the Braun Music Center to talk with Chuck's parents about her foreign language recording idea. They'd seemed supportive, so she was going to talk to the girls about it later. Then she'd hustled over to the hospital, past the people still holding their vigil, acknowledging them as she did, to spend some time with Chuck. Painful but rewarding. She'd felt their snap and the LTM readout showed, once again, that he registered her presence on some level. Then it was off to her Human Biology and Psychology classes. It was a good thing that both departments weren't too very far from the hospital. At least they were on that side of campus. Now, finally, she could take a breather and eat lunch. Time to recharge her batteries for the afternoon's demands.
She was sitting in a familiar spot, surrounded by familiar people. It was familiar, but not comfortable. The normal happy and carefree feeling was missing. Chuck wasn't there. She held back a frown and took another bite of her meal.
"Have you heard how the recording sessions are going, Sarah?" Morgan asked, between bites of his own meal. The Songbirds sharing the table perked up upon hearing the question.
"Yeah, I talked with Dr. Beckman right before I entered the serving line," Sarah replied. "She told me that everyone had been able to make it to their sessions at the various studios and everything was on schedule." Smiles around the table.
"Cool," Morgan smiled. "I've got mine, as soon as I finish my lunch, down at the CCRMA (Center for Computer Research in Music and Acoustics) building. So, I've got to hustle, do the recording, and then rush back the other way for baseball practice." He pouted, then grinned.
"Poor baby," Alex teased, giving him an affectionate side hug.
"That's great, Morgan," Sarah said. "I'm heading over to Braun to record some of my introductions before the rest of the girls show up and we can do our Songbird stuff."
"Works for me," Morgan grinned. "I think things are looking up."
"I hope you're right, Morgan. I really do, but we won't know until we can get it all finished and Chuck is listening to it."
"For sure. For sure," Morgan nodded. "But, Sarah, you yourself said that Chuck reacts to your touch and your voice." Sarah nodded. "Don't you think he'll react that much more to hearing you all the time, along with the rest of us?"
"Maybe. I hope so."
"Don't forget that the engineers are going to give us a complete timing breakdown of who's speaking when," Morgan continued. "We can get the doctors and nurses to help us sync that up with the LTM readout, so we'll be able to see precisely where Chuck's biggest reactions are and what he was listening to at that time. If we need to make changes to the recording, we can do that. Simple," he shrugged.
"You make a good case, Morgan," Sarah cautiously agreed. "I hope it turns out that way."
"What's wrong, Sarah?" Amy asked. "You seem bothered by something."
"That's because I am, Amy," the blonde admitted. "Something is in the back of my mind. Something we forgot, but for the life of me, I can't figure out what it is," she frowned and twisted her lips to the side, shaking her head in frustration.
"How about, let's talk about everything. All of us here, together. Maybe that will jog your memory or someone else's," Amy offered.
"Makes sense," Sarah said, as she looked at the clock on the dining hall wall. "We've got some time."
And talk they did. Discussing everything they were doing or planning on doing up to and including having Chuck's English friend, Mr. Barker, help him reestablish his mental closets once he woke up. Nothing clicked for Sarah. Or anyone else. Until it did.
"What are you going to do when he wakes up?" Cynthia Rose wanted to know. "How will he be able to tell that he is awake? That he's in the present and not reliving something in the past?"
"That's it!" Sarah yelled, startling everyone at the table and more than a few of the surrounding tables. "That's what was bugging me. Thanks, Cynthia Rose!" She nodded. "We need to put things in his room to let him know he's awake. And living in the present."
"There needs to be a clock, obviously," Carina snorted. "A digital one with a full date including the year. Big enough for him to read from the bed."
"Yeah, that's an important one," Sarah agreed. "Anything else? Anyone?"
"Once he gets out of isolation, we can have people trade off sitting in his room. Only people that he met at Stanford, though," Alex added.
"Why only people from Stanford?" Morgan asked, sounding put out.
"Well maybe not just Stanford people, sweetie," Alex amended her previous comment. "But mostly them. That's because no one from Stanford has ever been in a hospital room with Chuck before now. So, he would have to be awake in the present if he's in the hospital with Stanford people sitting with him."
"That makes sense, I guess," Morgan admitted begrudgingly. "They'd have to be sure to wear very different shirts each time they visit to help keep it new and current for Chuck."
"That shouldn't be a problem," Zondra chimed in. "Unless he's forced to stay in the hospital for a long time after he wakes up." A chorus of "yeahs".
"What about movie posters? Rock bands? Sports stuff?" Sarah wondered.
"That's a great idea, Sarah!" Morgan said enthusiastically. "We can get posters of some of his favorite movies. And some that he absolutely hated, too. Baseball stuff, too. Not rock bands so much, though."
"Why not rock bands?"
"He doesn't really have any favorite rock bands," Morgan replied. "At least, none that I'm aware of."
"OK, but why get posters of movies he hates?"
"That one is easy," his friend grinned. "If we put up posters of Star Wars Episodes 1, 2, or 3, and some other movies he doesn't like, he's sure to know that he isn't reliving a past experience. Chuck hated those movies. Hated. Like die, die, die, burn in Hell hated." Morgan laughed. "There is no way in any life, past or present, that Chuck Bartowski has a poster on his wall from one of those movies." Sarah giggled at his boisterous certainty.
"OK, Morgan. All of that makes sense," Sarah nodded. "You're in charge of looking around and picking up some posters and poster frames so we can hang them on the wall. Enough for us to change them in and out and move them around, so Chuck always sees something new and different when he wakes up after sleeping. Like five or so. Sound good? That'll reassure him that he's really awake and not having another of his own episodes." She paused. "Oh, and don't worry about the cost. We'll figure out some way to get you reimbursed for whatever you can find."
"You got it, Sarah," Alex jumped in, talking over Morgan. "I'll check online to see what places nearby carry movie posters while Morgan is at baseball practice and we'll check it out after dinner tonight, if we can. We'll look for a big digital clock, too, while we're at it. I'll check out websites, too, and see if they can get stuff to us fast enough."
"Thanks, Alex," Sarah smiled gratefully. "Yeah, we don't have any idea how soon we'll need them, so it's best to be ready as quickly as we can." Real soon, I hope, she thought to herself.
Monday April 29 – Roble Hall – a bit before 6:00pm, two days after Chuck's injury
"How'd it go, Blondie?" Carina asked as soon as Sarah set foot inside the suite. The redhead could tell her friend looked tired. It was evident that she'd been crying, too.
"OK, I guess, Red," Sarah shrugged. She had just returned from the Braun Music Center after recording a second series of short reminisces about her and Chuck's relationship and some songs, along with a number of introductory tracks that would be spliced in front of the recordings that were being made over the course of the day.
"Did you get it all done?" The redhead asked. Sarah nodded tiredly. "Ready to do it all over again tomorrow?" A sympathetic smile.
"Yeah, I am," Sarah nodded again. "I have to be."
"Why did you make us leave, Sarah?" Amy whined. "We might have been able to help. Keep you company, at least. You were there all by yourself before we even got there and you stayed after to do it all alone." Sarah had requested that the Songbirds, including the other CATS, get on with their afternoon while she continued to make her recordings alone.
"Because she wanted to say private things to Chuck, Amy," Zondra chided, shaking her head at their friend's cluelessness. "We're doing all of this for both of them, remember?"
"We still might have been able to bolster Sarah's spirits while she was recording," Amy defended herself. "It must have been a lot. Hard to do, I bet."
"It was Amy," Sarah agreed. "Thanks for caring, but Zondra is right. I wanted to talk to Chuck alone. Pour my heart out to him. And the engineers, of course," she pouted. "It was nice to talk about all of those good memories. I hope he hears them. I really do. It was hard to get through, even though I was talking about good memories. Singing sweet songs. Being upbeat. Because he's not here right now, each good memory and song drove a spike into my heart at the same time." She gestured at her face. "I broke down and cried a lot, but I needed to do this for Chuck. And for me."
"Are you really sure that you're up to do it again tomorrow?" Carina asked again, concerned for her friend.
"What choice do I have, Carina?" Sarah asked, her tone wistful. "I want him back. I need him back."
"We know, Sar," Zondra smiled affectionately. Then she slapped both hands on her knees and stood up. "That means we need to get some food in you. You'll need your strength for all of that recording tomorrow." Zondra nodded to herself. "First dinner and then we'll all go see Curls, so you can visit with him in the latest fashions from Paris." She made a silly, mock disgusted face thinking about the sterile suit. Sarah barked out a laugh. Mission accomplished, the brunette thought to herself.
"If that suit is the best that Paris can come up with, I'm here to tell you that they've completely lost their touch," Sarah frowned but continued to laugh.
"You just haven't tried wearing it while you're naked, Blondie," Carina joked. "That could change your perspective." Sarah looked at her friend like she'd grown a second head.
"It would change someone's perspective, that's for sure," Amy giggled.
"Ideas. Ideas," Sarah smirked, getting into the spirit of the conversation.
"Careful, Sarah," Zondra warned. "You'll put him right back into a coma if you're thinking like that when he wakes up." The thought of Chuck waking up brought a genuine grin to Sarah's face.
"Enough talking. Time for food," Carina admonished the other three women to general laughter. "Fix your face, Blondie. We can't have you scaring the natives and ruining our rep." Sarah frowned and stuck her tongue out at the redhead, but did as she'd been instructed.
Their spirits buoyed, the four friends locked their room and went down to join in with the regular dinnertime hustle and bustle.
Monday April 29 – Stanford Hospital ICU – a little after 7:00pm, two days after Chuck's injury
The CATS rounded the corner and walked toward the ICU Waiting Lounge. They'd had a nice, relaxing dinner at Lakeside with their somewhat depleted circle of friends. Everyone knew where Chuck was, but Alex and Morgan were missing, too, having eaten earlier and gone off to see if they could locate a good clock and some movie posters to put up in Chuck's room. The rest of the extended group made a determined effort to keep things light and, by mutual agreement, only talked about the normal, mundane campus shenanigans that were part of their daily lives. Lots of people had stories to share, so the meal passed quickly and enjoyably. Even the weather had cooperated, so the walk to the hospital had been pleasant as it could have been.
Once the foursome caught sight of the concourse in front of the new hospital building, they were greeted by a modest crowd still maintaining their vigil for Chuck. Some were praying. Some were singing. Some were just standing and silently staring at the hospital. But everyone who noticed them, regardless of what they had been doing, called out their welcome and support to Sarah and her friends. She'd smiled and spoken her thanks while the small group made its way toward the main doors. Before entering, Sarah had turned back to wave her thanks for the people being there and they responded with calls of hope and encouragement.
Now, Sarah and the CATS joined the Bartowskis and Devon in the lounge. There were a few other people there, including Coaches Graham and Casey. They were just finishing up a hushed conversation with Chuck's parents and were preparing to leave for the evening when the young women joined the group.
"We'll just be going, Stephen. Mary," Graham said. Catching sight of Sarah, he added, "How did the recording go today, Miss Walker?" Chuck's teammates and coaches had taken some time away from the end of their practice, earlier that afternoon, to complete their assigned recordings at the Learning Hub in Lathrop Library, since it was the closest location to the baseball field.
"Fine, Sir," Sarah smiled. "We got a lot accomplished. It was tiring, but I think we're in a good spot to finish up the recordings tomorrow. And if it doesn't take too long to splice the tracks together, we might be able to have Chuck be listening to everything by this time tomorrow, as well. I've got my fingers crossed."
"Mine, too," the older man smiled. Scanning the small group, he said, "Ellie. Devon. Ladies. Until tomorrow." He nodded and walked off. Coach Casey just grunted in approval and nodded to everyone before following in his footsteps. Once the men were out of earshot, Ellie spoke up.
"How did things really go, Sarah?" The med student asked seriously.
"Fine," Sarah confirmed. "I wasn't kidding. We really did have a good recording session this afternoon. The Songbirds got all of their performance songs recorded and some additional ones that Chuck heard us practicing during the year. We did the foreign language stuff, too. The engineers were great. So was Dr. Beckman. We got it all done without any glitches. It's the same with the other stuff I recorded alone. Very quick. The few times I had to redo something, the guys in the booth were able to get me through it just fine the second time around. We are on track for tomorrow." She paused. "Good evening to everyone, by the way." Sarah smiled and Ellie's cheeks pinked at her breach of decorum in front of her parents. Mary smirked and shook her head.
"How are you, Sarah?" the older woman asked. "How are all of you doing?" She looked at the other CATS.
"I'm OK, Dr. Bartowski," Sarah replied. Gesturing at her friends, "We're all doing OK. If a little tired. We managed to get a decent night's sleep last night, which was a good thing because we were busy all day."
"But we got the job done," Zondra said emphatically.
"How are all of you holding up?" Sarah asked the others.
"As well as can be expected," Mary hedged, choosing not to talk about her crying over her memories that afternoon. "We both spent some time with Chuck, then Stephen and I rented a car, so we'll be ready to pick up Mr. and Mrs. Barker tomorrow afternoon."
"Got a room in a hotel, so we wouldn't be a burden on Langston and Anna anymore," Stephen interjected. "He's got enough to deal with having to coach the baseball team through all of this."
"Yes, that's right," Mary agreed. "We're now staying in the same hotel where we have the Barkers booked. That'll make it easier for the trips back and forth to the hospital when the time comes."
"That makes a lot of sense," Sarah nodded. "Saves a lot of running around and back and forth driving." She turned to Ellie with a questioning look.
"Devon and I had classes," Ellie shrugged. "Medical school doesn't slow down for anything or anyone, but I can't complain. Going to classes kept me from sitting and worrying about Chuck." Ellie looked at her parents. "Speaking of classes, Mom, Devon and I need to leave, too. We've got studying to do to prepare for tomorrow."
"That's fine, dear," Mary said. "You two do what you need to do."
"Thanks Mom. We'll see everyone tomorrow sometime," Ellie said, taking Devon's hand. Then she stopped. "I almost forgot. Sarah, we both got our recordings done earlier. I'm not sure if you knew that or not."
"I didn't. Thanks, Ellie," Sarah hugged her friend. Then Devon.
"Night everyone," Ellie waved.
"Night," Devon added, warmly. The couple walked toward the bank of elevators.
"Are you planning on going in to see him, Sarah?" Mary asked.
"Yes, Ma'am. I am," Sarah nodded.
"Good," the older woman smiled. "He could use some time with you, I think." Sarah smiled shyly.
Dora Parker poked her head into the lounge, "Sorry folks. Visiting hours are now over. Everyone who doesn't have special permission to stay needs to leave. Sorry about that."
"Is it OK if we pop down the hall for just a second to look in on Chuck, Ms. Parker?" Amy asked.
"Sure thing," the nurse smiled. "Just gather your belongings and I'll give you a few minutes before I shoo you out!" She chuckled and the CATS grinned at her. The four young women followed her down the hall. Three to look through the window and Sarah so she could begin the process of putting on the sterile suit.
"We'll wait outside with the troops, General," Carina snarked, saluting her roommate. Sarah snorted, but grinned and returned the salute.
"I won't be too terribly long," Sarah promised. "I've still got work to do tonight on my senior projects."
"No worries, Blondie," Carina replied. "We'll be waiting for you, take as long as you want."
Sarah grinned her thanks at her friends while she finished getting suited up. They watched her enter Chuck's room then turned to leave, bidding good night to Chuck's parents as they left the floor.
Once she had sat down and gotten as comfortable as she could in the confining outfit, Sarah reached out and gently took Chuck's hand. Their snap was there, but, to Sarah, it felt muted. It made her curious and a little bit concerned. Where was Chuck right now? What was he experiencing? She couldn't be sure, but it felt like he was … she didn't know … distracted? Was that it? Distant? Did any of that even make sense? Could he be distracted while he was lost in his memories? Or was Chuck just consumed by a particularly strong memory just at that moment? How to tell? Sarah squeezed his hand in reassurance. For him and for her.
"Chuck. It's me, baby," Sarah said, injecting as much positive warmth into her voice that she could. "I'm here. Sorry it took me so long to come back. It's been a crazy busy day, let me tell you." And she did. Sarah recounted all of her day's activities like she would normally do when they ate dinner or took one of their walks together. She could close her eyes and almost believe everything was normal and they were doing exactly that. Almost.
From somewhere in the depths of his dark despair, Chuck felt a light snap. Just an echo of something stronger. A voice. Indistinct. Far away? A flash of emotion. Sarah? He tried to focus, but the raging tempest bore him away …
Tuesday April 30 – Braun Music Center – just bit before 4:00pm, three days after Chuck's injury
Burt Skall, the lead engineer, sat in the control booth and gave Sarah a thumbs up. They'd gotten the track. It was a good one. The last one. She was done. She dropped her shoulders and took a deep breath, sitting down in a nearby chair. All of the recordings were done. It had been a monumental effort on the part of a lot of people. People taking time out of their busy schedules to do something for Chuck. Sarah had been there when the Colts and Miss Maisie's band made their recordings. So kind and heartfelt. And jumping! That band was really good. She couldn't wait to go back to Maisie's with Chuck after he woke up. But that was something for the future. Right now, Sarah had to take care of things in the present. She sighed and heaved herself off of the chair, making her way toward the control booth.
"We've got it all, Sarah," Mr. Skall informed her when she opened the door. "These last tracks you recorded finish off the list." Larry Wiggins, the other engineer smiled and nodded. As did Dr. Beckman.
"The other studios have already sent over the tracks they recorded," the advisor smiled.
"So, that means all you have to do is splice everything together? Then we can load it on Chuck's phone?" Sarah asked hopefully.
"That's right, Sarah," the professor nodded. "Simple," she grinned looking at the engineers.
"Easy for you to say," Mr. Skall grumped good-naturedly.
"I don't mean to be pushy, but how long will that take?" Sarah was having a hard time containing her excitement.
"Of course, you mean to be pushy," Burt chuckled. Sarah's cheeks reddened in embarrassment. "We understand completely. Dr. Beckman filled us in on everything. Larry and I are baseball fans, too. We'll get this wrapped up pretty quickly," he grinned. "It's a lot easier these days with the digital files and the software. Not like the old days. It should only take us a few hours." He looked at the clock. "We can shoot for … Hmmm … how about 7pm. Sound good?"
"That's wonderful, Mr. Skall. Mr. Wiggins. Thank you!" Sarah gushed with a happy smile.
"Sounds great, Burt," Beckman nodded. "You let me know and I'll give Sarah a buzz to bring Chuck's phone over ASAP." She turned to the younger woman. "You have his phone already, Sarah? And the code?"
"Yes, Ma'am," Sarah nodded. "Morgan made sure to get it to me at lunch and I've got it locked away in my room. I'll be able to bring it over as soon as you let me know."
"I'm sure," Dr. Beckman gently teased. Sarah just grinned and shrugged her right shoulder.
"OK, ladies," Burt nodded. "To work!" The two women giggled as they left the engineers to work their technical magic.
Tuesday April 30 – Stanford Hospital ICU – after 7:30pm, three days after Chuck's injury
Sarah stepped into the ICU waiting lounge and all of the hushed conversations stopped. As she entered, the CATS followed her in. Dr. Beckman and Dr. Montgomery were already there. They'd driven over together after leaving Sarah and the CATS outside Braun Music Center. Sarah had begged off driving over. She'd wanted to walk, needing to prepare herself for what was coming. What she hoped was coming.
Chuck's parents looked at her with hopeful smiles. As did Ellie and Devon. The Songbirds wore a variety of expressions, from curiosity to hope to trepidation. Jesse Swanson and Benji Applebaum were there with Beca and Lilly, as were a few others. Morgan wasn't there. Nor were any of the baseball team. They were playing a game against Santa Clara that evening that forced them to miss this potentially momentous occasion. Similarly, the Colts were busy at their restaurant, but Sarah had promised to call them once everything was in place and recording was playing. No one expected any sort of instant response, but they couldn't help hoping anyway. Sarah was surprised to see the three men from Sunday night there, Dr. Bainbridge, Dr. Loveless, and Reverend Snodgrass, nodding to her in recognition.
But the biggest surprise was the older couple who entered the lounge after her. She'd seen them down the hall when she'd arrived, looking at Chuck through the window, both of them had appeared visibly upset. Sarah wasn't one hundred percent sure, but thought the couple might be the Barkers, Chuck's sponsors and friends from his time in England. The woman reminded her of her own mother, a kind face with only the slightest hint of age lines, warm brown eyes, now red-rimmed, framed by short, wavy gray hair. The man, obviously her husband from the way she clung to him, was definitely striking. Ramrod straight with a craggy, scarred face. His nose had been broken and reset, at least once, the break still evident. His hair and beard were both cut short, mostly gray, but still holding streaks of brown, once dark, if his eyebrows were any clue. The man's eyes were brown, like Chuck's, though not warm, but piercing, missing nothing as he read the room, even as they, too, were red-rimmed, like his wife's, after looking in on his protégé. The picture was completed by his obvious fitness, even with his advanced age. Who else could they be, besides Cole Barker, formerly of the SAS, and his wife?
"Do you have it?" Ellie asked, eagerly, once Sarah got closer. The room listened.
Sarah heaved a big tired sigh. "Yes, I've got it right here. And his earphones," she replied, sucking in her lips and biting them nervously.
"Are you ready, Sarah?" Mary asked.
"I think so. I hope so," the young woman admitted honestly.
"First, let me introduce you to Mr. Cole Barker and his wife, Gillian," Mary smiled, indicating the older couple. "This is Sarah Walker. Chuck's girlfriend. And the driving force behind all of our efforts on Chuck's behalf," Mary's smile grew, joined by the others in the room. The newly arrived couple perked up and smiled. Sarah ducked her head, feeling shy all of a sudden.
"Please, call me Gill," Mrs. Barker said as she shook Sarah's hand. "It's nice to meet you, Sarah."
"Call me Cole, Miss Walker" Mr. Barker half smiled when it was his turn. "It's my honor to meet the woman who's wise enough to choose Chuck Bartowski."
"Please call me Sarah," Sarah said, blushing at the compliment, as he took her hand in a warm, firm grip. "If it's OK, I'll call you what Chuck called you. What was it?" She smiled.
"That could be a problem, Sarah," Cole chuckled. "There were times Chuck called me things that I can't repeat in mixed company!" Sarah blushed again and giggled. She heard chuckles around the room.
"During some of the training you gave him, I bet," she smirked.
"Those were the times," the older man grinned. "But Chuck always got it done." He nodded, grinning. "Despite the name-calling. Cole is just fine. Better than BLEEPITY BLEEP, at any rate." More laughter.
"Cole it is then," Sarah agreed. "Thank you, both, so much, for coming all the way over here on such short notice. No notice, at all, really," she said sincerely.
Cole instantly sobered. "It's Chuck," he said, shrugging his shoulders, as if that was all the reason necessary to go to such extraordinary lengths. And it was. He was right. Chuck was worth anything. He was worth everything.
The emotions slammed into Sarah's chest out of nowhere. Her eyes filled with tears as she bit her lips trying to hold them at bay. Everyone saw, but Cole was the first to react.
"Ah, lass," he said as he gathered Sarah into his arms in a comforting hug. "There now. There now." He gently patted her back. "You're doing all you can. More than most could or would do. You've got all of us to help, as well. You're not in this alone." Murmurs of agreement from around the room.
Nurse Parker stepped into the room and cleared her throat. Sarah pulled back, wiping her face. Cole smiled and winked at her and she nodded her thanks in return.
"Sorry to intrude, but I've got some news that might brighten everyone's mood," the nurse announced.
"What is it, Dora?" Mary asked.
"The doctors have approved taking Chuck off of infection isolation. Starting tomorrow at the morning shift change," the nurse smiled. Soft cheers.
"That's wonderful!" Mary happily exclaimed. "People will be able to come in to visit and interact with him. That's got to help."
"Yes, it's great," Dora smiled, but held up a finger. "But, remember, only two people at a time to begin with. After that, we'll see how it goes."
"Maybe it's a sign, Sarah," Carina hugged her friend.
"I hope so, Carina. I hope so," Sarah said. The nurse got everyone's attention once more.
"I've also got to remind you that visiting hours are over. Even for Chuck, besides family," she smiled sadly.
Sarah pulled out Chuck's phone and took a deep breath. "I guess it's time to do this then." She waggled the phone where the others could see.
"Yup," Dora nodded. "Come with me and we'll get you in the Zoot Suit."
"For the last time, hopefully," Sarah said, crossing her fingers.
"Hopefully," the nurse agreed, walking back toward Chuck's room.
Sarah quickly dressed while Dora disinfected Chuck's phone and earphones. Before she drew up the suit's hood, Sarah plugged the earphones in and put them on, listening to the beginning of the recording and adjusting the volume to a comfortable level. Satisfied, she stopped the recording and finished her preparations. Then she stepped into the room.
Danielle Fu greeted her when she got close to Chuck's bed. The nurse assisted her in clipping the phone to the front of Chuck's hospital gown and plugged the phone's power cord into a socket in the bed-head panel behind Chuck's bed. Sarah uncoiled the earphones, double checked they were still plugged in, and carefully slid them into Chuck's ears. Danielle used hypoallergenic tape to secure the earphones in his ears. She nodded to Sarah. Everything was ready.
Sarah looked back at the window and saw everyone congregated there, smiling and giving her a thumbs up. It was time. She noticed her hands were shaking and took a deep breath to steady her nerves. It didn't help.
Please God, let him hear, Sarah prayed. Let him hear and come back to us. Come back to me. Please, Chuck. Please. I love you. I need you, sweetie. Please wake up, she begged. Please come back to me. I miss you so much.
"I love you, Chuck," Sarah whispered. She looked at Danielle. "Here we go …"
Sarah reached out her index finger and pressed 'Play'.
A/N2: Chapter title comes from the song by the Beatles. The song lyrics are appropriate for this chapter. Chuck definitely needs help from a certain somebody.
A/N3: Thank you to the guest reviewer who noticed my recounting of the Gifted movie in my A/N in chapter 17 was flawed (due to my faulty memory, unlike Chuck in this story). I corrected it. Mistakes like that bug me, so thank you, truly. No snark. Just the truth. Thank you. See folks? Constructive comments and criticisms can work.
A/N4: A zoot suit is a men's suit with high-waisted, wide-legged, tight-cuffed, pegged trousers, and a long coat with wide lapels and wide padded shoulders. This style of clothing became popular in African-American, Mexican American, Italian American, Jewish American, and Filipino American communities during the 1940s (Wikipedia).
A/N5: WillieGarvin Is always there to answer the call when I shout "Help!". His advice, support, and encouragement have helped me with this story from the very beginning. As the song says "I do appreciate you being 'round". Thanks, my friend.
A/N6: Thank you for reading. Please drop me a PM or leave a review. Let me know what you think. For those of you who have left reviews or PMs previously, thank you. I appreciate each and every one of them. Thank you to everyone who has followed or favorited this story.
A/N7: If you enjoy Chuck fan fiction here on the fanfic site, go over to Facebook and join the Chuck Fanfiction group that's there. You'll find nice folks who share your interest in our favorite spy couple. You are not alone.