A/N: Hello again, Cardinal fans! This is College Baseball TMI. As always, we're here due to the good graces of the top-notch team over at Stanford TMI. Stanford TMI, the best TMI west of the Mississippi. Heck, maybe the best TMI east of the Mississippi, too. We're your hosts, Biff Roberts and Rob Bifford. With some fan-favorite players being forced to sit out games due to injuries, we thought we'd take this opportunity to talk about pitch count and its impact on rehabbing players. A pitcher's pitch count is a record of the number of pitches a pitcher throws over the course of the game. It's used by coaches to gauge how much work a pitcher has done during a game and how tired a pitcher is or isn't by comparing their pitch count in the current game against their counts in prior games. Coaches consider that number, along with the pitcher's performance in the game being played to decide if and when to replace the pitcher with a different player. A fresh arm, you might say. This is especially important when the coach goes to the team's bullpen since relief pitchers typically aren't accustomed to pitching as long as a starting pitcher. To tie this into what we said at the top of the segment, it's doubly important to monitor the pitch count of a player who is recovering from an injury to prevent the player from reinjuring themselves or causing a new injury to occur. For this reason, many coaches expand the pitch count beyond just the pitches thrown to opposing batters. Those coaches will add in warm up pitches in the bullpen and on the mound at the start of each inning, once the player enters the game. Some even include pickoff throws since they also put strain on a pitcher's arm. Many youth programs encourage their coaches to use the expanded count to help minimize the chance of kids getting hurt due to overusing their arms. There you have it, folks! Next time we'll be talking about the professional baseball draft. Until then, this is College Baseball TMI wishing the best of luck to all of the teams taking part in this year's tournament. I'm Rob Bifford. And I'm Biff Roberts. Good-bye for now.

Disclaimer: I can't count on owning Chuck. I don't make any money from Chuck, so I can't count that either. I guess that makes me a no-account. [Sniff]

Chapter 41 – I Do It for You

Tuesday May 28

Chuck had completed his baseball workout and been released by Coaches Casey and Bradbury before the rest of the team were finished with their practice, as had become the norm since he'd rejoined the team. He hit the showers and then made a beeline back to Roble Hall to where his car was parked. With Morgan still tied up at the baseball field and Sarah busy with her own work, he was free to follow up on the phone calls he'd made earlier in the day. After a short trip to downtown Palo Alto, he found an empty spot along University Avenue and parked across the street from the first place Mrs. Graham had told him about. After jogging to the other side, he looked at the façade of the building in front of him and smiled. The sign over the door read Krass Brothers Fine Jewelry. There were beautiful displays in the windows and he could see a number of glass-covered cases full of various kinds of jewelry inside when he looked past the items in the front window. He hoped they had what he was looking for. Pulling the door open, he went in. And was instantly greeted by a cheerful gray-haired older man, who was positioned behind the central counter. The man was shorter than he was but, then, most people were, he mentally shrugged.

"How can we help you, Mr. Bartowski?" the man asked. Thick eyebrows shaded his sharp dark eyes beneath a full head of short, but tightly curled, wiry iron-gray hair. An aquiline nose was centered over a full-lipped mouth with the edges just curling up into a smile.

"You know who I am?" Chuck asked incredulously.

"Everyone in Palo Alto knows who you are, son," the man's smile grew. "May I say we're all glad to see you out of the hospital and on the mend."

"Thank you …," Chuck began.

"Saul Krass. This is my shop," Mr. Krass continued to smile as he extended his hand for Chuck to shake.

"Thank you, Mr. Krass," the younger man blushed, taking the proffered hand.

"Call me Saul. Mr. Krass was my old man. And he's long gone. I'm in no hurry to follow in his footsteps, either," Saul chuckled at his own joke. "What can I do for you, Mr. Bartowski?"

"Call me Chuck, Saul, please," Chuck's grin matched the one on the older man's face.

"OK, Chuck it is," the man nodded. "Now, what brings you in today?"

"I'm looking for a special gift for my girlfriend."

"What'd ya do?" Saul fixed him with a look.

"What?" Chuck was confused.

"I said, 'What'd ya do?'" Saul repeated sympathetically. "Most guys come in here to either buy engagement rings or gifts for their women. Some of the time the gift is for the lady's birthday or an anniversary that the guy didn't forget. Most of the time the guy is trying to buy his way out of the doghouse. You in the doghouse, Chuck?"

"I haven't done anything," Chuck protested. He stood to his full height and pulled his chin back in denial.

"Yet," the other man squinted at him knowingly, tapping the side of his nose.

"Yet," Chuck nodded, sighing in agreement.

"Let me guess," Saul stroked his chin in thought. "You're going to go away for the summer to play baseball on Cape Cod and leave that blonde beauty of a girlfriend of yours back here in Palo Alto all by herself. So, you're buying her a present to preemptively apologize. Am I right?" Chuck's eyebrows rose toward his hairline when his eyes widened in surprise.

"H—How did you know all that?" he stammered. The old man snorted and waved his hand dismissively.

"I'm good friends with the Colts. They couldn't keep quiet about you and your lady friend. Her name's Sarah, right?" He chuckled.

Chuck smiled crookedly and nodded, "Yeah, that's her name. Sarah Walker." Saul nodded and winked, tapping his nose again. "I don't know if I'm going or not, but I wanted to get her something, regardless, to show her how I feel."

"Have you told her how you feel, yet?" Mr. Krass looked him over with a serious expression. "That's more important, and obvious, than any piece of jewelry, even a fine piece from my peerless collection."

"Yeah, I have," the young man admitted, "but giving her jewelry to reinforce the words can't hurt, can it?"

"No, it can't," Saul agreed. "You're a man after my own heart, Chuck Bartowski. Wise beyond your years, too." Chuck blushed at the praise. "What did you have in mind?" The jeweler's eyes twinkled.

The student described what he was looking for. When he was done, the older man was frowning.

"We don't have anything exactly like that in stock at the moment. I'm sorry."

Chuck's face fell. "Can it be ordered? Or can you make one?" he asked hopefully.

"Depends. When do you need it?" Saul had a calculating expression on his face.

"A couple of weeks. Friday, June 14th, at the latest. It'll be a full cash payment purchase, if that helps," Chuck answered.

"Cash payment always helps, Chuck. Keeps the credit card companies at bay, those money-grubbing vultures," the proprietor announced with a growl. He reached beneath the counter and pulled out a book of sketches. "Let's see if we can find a design like the one you described to me."

It didn't take too long for them to find the perfect design, at least in Chuck's estimation. Saul gave him his options. They discussed the size he wanted and the materials, the owner's eyes lit up when Chuck insisted on heirloom quality gemstones. Once that was determined, the jeweler calculated an estimated price. Much to the older man's surprise, Chuck didn't flinch at the number he came up with, just nodded in understanding and signed the work document which detailed the estimated cost and wrote his cell number on the paper, too.

"That's great, Chuck," Saul said, taking the paper back and looking it over. "Now, how did you want to secure the commitment? Half now and half when the job is complete is the usual method."

Chuck reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. Opening it, he put his American Express Centurion card on the counter. "Can I use this? I'll pay the full amount in cash when we finalize the sale. If something happens to me in the meantime, you'll get paid in full, either way. Is that alright with you?" The store owner's eyes glazed over when he looked at the credit card.

"It's an Amex Black Card," he said, the surprise clear in his voice. That wasn't what he'd been expecting. At all. "Yes, this is fine. Just let me run it and you can be on your way." Picking up the card, Saul walked over to the nearby register and credit card reader. After running the card, he handed it back to Chuck with a greater measure of respect. There was more to this kid than even the Colts had told him about.

"Thank you, Saul," Chuck said, putting his card and wallet back in his pocket. "Before I go, I wanted to ask you a question."

"What is it?" the older man responded.

"Do you have family back east?" the student asked. "My dad grew up in Pennsylvania and he's told me stories about a business with crazy commercials that he used to see on TV when he was a kid. Krass Brothers Men's Store in Philadelphia." Saul laughed and shook his head.

"Yeah, those are my cousins. The store closed back in 2002, but people still remember those silly commercials. Benny was my uncle. He's the one who did the TV spots. Such a good guy. A real honest-to-goodness character, if you know what I mean. They used to make suits for a lot of famous people back in the day, but times changed. Tastes changed. What can you do? Benny passed away in 2004. End of an era and more's the pity," he shrugged. "Tell your dad thanks for remembering my old Uncle Benny. He would have loved to hear that."

"I'll do that, thanks, Saul," Chuck smiled.

The older man reached out to shake hands, "Pleasure doing business with you, Chuck. I'll be in touch."

"Thanks. I'll be waiting for your call." Both men smiled, before the preemptively apologizing baseball player left the shop.

Chuck's second destination was just a little way down University Avenue from the jewelry store. Anna Graham had recommended South Bay Realty when Chuck had called her that morning. She'd told him that they'd worked with the company when they'd purchased their current home and had been very happy with their choice and the result. She'd gone even further to recommend the same woman who'd helped them on their deal, Lydia Salstein. Chuck had an appointment scheduled with Ms. Salstein as soon as he could get to their office. Arriving at the realty office, he put a smile on his face when he went to open the door. While he was crossing the reception room, the young woman behind the desk smiled at him appreciatively and spoke.

"Can I help you, Sir?" she asked brightly.

"Yes. My name is Chuck Bartowski. I have an appointment with Lydia Salstein. She should be expecting me," Chuck answered warmly.

The woman hummed her approval. "I'll just buzz her." She picked up the phone and pressed a button. "Ms. Salstein, there is a Mr. Chuck Bartowski here to see you." After listening for a moment, she hung up the phone and smiled. "She'll be right with you, if you could just have a seat in the meantime?"

"Thanks." Another smile as he turned to find a seat. He didn't see the woman's appraising look when his back was turned. After a few minutes, a pleasant dark-haired woman approached him.

"Chuck Bartowski?" she asked. When Chuck nodded and began to stand up, she went on, "Lydia Salstein. Nice to meet you." She held out her hand, but took a step back and looked up once he'd risen to his full height. "You're tall," she exclaimed, then blushed, the handshake forgotten.

Chuck smiled sheepishly and nodded. "Yeah, I'm handy to have around to get stuff off of high shelves. I'm Chuck Bartowski. Nice to meet you, too, Ms. Salstein." He put his own hand out, patiently waiting for her to take it.

Lydia shook herself when she heard his voice. Blushing anew, she took his hand and shook it. What a tall drink of water this cutie is. I wonder what lucky girl has snagged him?

"Won't you please follow me back to my office?" Lydia asked by rote, still not fully back in control. Luckily the young man nodded and followed her. It gave her a few moments to compose herself. When they reached her office, she gestured at one of her guest chairs before taking her own seat.

"Can I get you something to drink? Coffee? Water? Soda?"

"No, thank you. I'm good," Chuck answered.

"Chuck Bartowski? Bartowski?" Lydia asked. "I've heard that name somewhere before."

"I'm a baseball player at Stanford. You might have heard about me getting injured a little while back."

"That's it! Of course. That was such a terrible accident. How are you doing? If you don't mind me asking."

"I don't mind at all, Ms. Salstein. I'm doing great. Better than I was at any rate," Chuck replied with a half-smile.

"That's wonderful. And please, call me Lydia," she requested. "If we're going to be working together, we might as well be on a first name basis."

"OK. Lydia. Call me Chuck," he smiled.

"Fine, Chuck. You're in the market for a place to live. Can you give me some idea what you're looking for?" she prompted and picked up a pen.

"Sure. I'm looking for a place because my friend and roommate is moving in with his girlfriend. I'll admit that I'm looking at places through Stanford, but I don't think the one-bedroom apartments will be big enough for me. The dorms might be an option, but I'm not sure if I still qualify since I'm a grad student. I was only living on campus to comply with the NCAA rule that requires first year athletes to live on campus. Even if I can live in a dorm, the one person rooms are likely to be too small for what I want, just like the subsidized apartments. Thus, my visit with you today. Mrs. Graham, Anna Graham, recommended your agency and you, specifically."

"Why, how nice of her to do that. I'll have to call her to thank her," the realtor smiled and nodded. "So, if a one-bedroom place is too small, what are you looking for?" As Chuck told her what he was thinking about, her eyes got wider and wider. When he was finished, she took a deep breath and blew it out.

"OK. Wow! You have some interesting ideas I'll give you that. How old are you? I guess I should have asked that before now. This isn't some kind of college prank, is it?" She gave Chuck a stern look.

"I'm nineteen and this is no prank, I assure you," Chuck replied solemnly. "I'm able to afford quite a bit more house than you might expect, given my age. Possibly even make a mortgage-free purchase, depending on what properties you present to me. It's no problem for me to provide you with the name and number of my banker for verification. I have all of the account numbers on hand, too, if you want to run financial health checks before we go any further."

"That would be a good place to start. No reason to waste your time. Or mine," Lydia said, sounding both exasperated and apologetic at the same time as she took a financial form out of her desk. Chuck nodded his understanding and gave her the information as she requested it, filling out the document in time with his responses. "This shouldn't take too long. We might have it back in a day. Can you come back tomorrow?"

"I can, but can't you contact my banker, too? While you wait on the formal process?" Chuck was afraid that, if they were going to send him to the Cape, he didn't have a lot of time left to begin a house search.

"OK, what's your banker's name and direct number?" Lydia asked.

Chuck gave her the information she needed and sat quietly while she contacted Gary Malloy, his chief banker. Her serious expression changed as the call went on. When it ended, Ms. Salstein couldn't hide her shocked surprise when she looked up at him from her notes.

"I must say I'm surprised at what I just heard. Very pleasantly surprised, I might add. I have no doubt that the formal checks will confirm what Mr. Malloy just told me," she said, smiling weakly. "I also offer my sincere apology for doubting your honesty. Or your ability to conduct the business we were discussing. I see no reason not to move forward, pending that confirmation. If you're still interested, of course."

"I completely understand," Chuck said. "It's not the first time someone wanted to verify my financial situation. It was worse when I was younger," he grinned.

"I can only imagine," Lydia chuckled. "So … Still interested?"

"Absolutely. I'd love to work with you. You were being cautious and I definitely respect that. How soon do you think you can have some properties lined up to show me?" he asked enthusiastically.

"Well, you've told me the details of the house you'd like, but not where you're interested in living."

"My girlfriend is living in one of the Escondido Village Low-Rise apartments on the east side of campus with her two friends. I guess focusing on that side of town, not too far from campus, makes the most sense to begin with. Shorter drives to each other's place for me and her, both."

"Great! Let me see what I can come up with. How about you come back tomorrow, like we'd talked about before? That way the formal financial check should be done and we can go over that and a preliminary list of properties all in the same meeting."

"That sounds perfect. Does this time tomorrow work for you, Lydia? I'm sure I can be back with little trouble," Chuck said, trying to hold in his excitement.

"Same time tomorrow would be fine by me," the realtor replied, just as animated as her new client. Assuming what that banker had told her was accurate, this could be a very lucrative deal, if she played her cards right.

"OK! I'll leave you to it," Chuck said as he stood up. Lydia stood, as well, and they shook hands before parting. "See you tomorrow!"

Sarah was on her second lap around Lake Lagunita still keeping a wary eye out for obstructions on the path. Chuck and his silly comment about ninja pinecones. God! Now he's got me thinking like a nerd. Maybe so, but you are looking out for them, aren't you? That realization caused her to snort and shake her head at herself.

She hadn't been facetious the previous night when she'd told Chuck that eating that wonderful cheesecake would require her to do more exercise to work off the extra calories. More importantly, running gave Sarah a chance to think and begin to work some things out. Her thoughts drifted back to her lunch with Chuck and his unfortunate, but not unexpected, news.

"Dr. Loveless told me that there wasn't any research space available for me to use," Chuck told her, in response to her question. He hadn't even taken his seat before she sprang it on him. "No one stopped to consider that the plans might change after my injury. Everyone's focus, including yours and mine," he looked at her and twisted his lips to the side, "was on me waking up and getting healthy again." When he finished talking, he finally sat down.

"So, you'll either go to Cape Cod to play baseball or stay in California and twiddle your thumbs," Sarah frowned at both choices, thinking that neither were good options, but she didn't say that to him.

"Well, maybe not twiddle my thumbs completely," Chuck offered. "I could still work on the projects that don't require all of the research space. Like my history and computer science projects."

"OK, that's something then," she commented with a small amount of renewed hope.

"Yeah, but I won't know for sure until Coach Graham gives me the word on the final decision about summer ball," he added, putting a damper on Sarah's flickering hopes. She frowned.

"Are you going to talk to him at practice today?"

"Absolutely. This uncertainty is making me antsy," he grumped.

"No matter what happens, you can be certain that I love you," Sarah smiled, leaning in for a soft kiss. That was definitely true even if his going to Cape Cod bothered her.

"That's really all that matters to me, so I guess I'm good," Chuck grinned when their lips parted. She grinned back.

Sarah sighed at the memory. She and Chuck had faced endless obstacles in their relationship, so she fully expected that Graham would recommend that Chuck go to the Cape. If not today then by this time next week. Assuming he continued to heal and get back in shape enough to go in accordance with the original, pre-injury, plans. Sarah also had little doubt that Chuck would do everything he could to be physically ready to play. More for a chance to help the team in the playoffs than for an opportunity to go east for the summer. Going to Massachusetts would just be a natural outgrowth of his loyalty to his Stanford teammates. She knew she had to prepare herself for that potential eventuality. Regardless of her feelings and Chuck's reluctance for them to be parted, however temporarily. He was right, it was strange to want both outcomes, even as they were diametrically opposed to one another.

As she paced herself through her current lap around the dry lakebed, Sarah's wondering about Chuck's summer plans segued into what the summer had in store for her, Carina, and Zondra. That and what she faced over the next few weeks.

Sarah's graduation to-do list had been getting smaller with each passing day. She'd turned in her final biology paper the day before, sliding it under her professor's office door and sending him an electronic copy as had been requested. Another item had gotten crossed off her list. Now, all that remained was her senior seminar paper and, possibly, her finals. It was a well-known tradition for professors to waive finals for graduating seniors. Relying, instead, on the work performed over the quarter to calculate their grades. It was also a well-known tradition that the professors would wait until the final day of classes before informing the students of their decision about giving the final. What better way to keep the seniors focused and on task up to the last moment?

She would spend her time after dinner putting the final touches on her seminar paper and reading it over. Then she'd set it aside to reread a few times the next day. While letting her paper percolate, she could begin work on her presentation notes that she would use to discuss her paper and its conclusions during her assigned time slot on Friday. Once that task was accomplished, the only thing left were the three days of class the next week. Oh, and watching Stanford play in their regional tournament. Can't forget about that, can I? she thought. The Bartowski Backers will be in full voice this time around. No singing competitions to muffle our voices now! Sarah chuckled to herself. She felt a surge of adrenaline caused by her excitement about graduating and Stanford's chances in the baseball playoffs. And starting PT school. Even her fingers were tingling. It's a good thing that I'm running right now. I need to burn off some of this energy or I'll never be able to concentrate on my paper tonight.

Snorting and shaking her head at herself, Sarah began to consider what would happen after next week. Finals. Or not. Then Graduation! Wearing the get-up and walking with her best friends. Definitely! The last ride of the CATS, she sniffed at her surge of emotion. Her family would be making the trip to Palo Alto for the big event. They might even get a chance to meet Chuck, if he hadn't already been shipped off to Massachusetts. Boy! That would be a milestone in their relationship. Meeting the parents! And my sister! She'd already met his family, but he'd been spared any of the classic awkward moments on account of his injury. She would not be so lucky. Molly would be in fine form, she was sure, and she wouldn't be at all surprised if Jack and her mom didn't add to her embarrassment with supposedly cute stories of her childhood. Maybe even some old photographs. Gag. As uncomfortable as all of that would be, Sarah couldn't deny that she was more excited than scared about her family meeting her boyfriend. Was she actually blushing in anticipation of that? Another snort and head shake. Get a hold of yourself, Walker.

Her imaginings about Chuck meeting her parents shifted to her starting with PT school. And living with Carina and Zondra in an apartment! That could be wonderful or insane. Or, more likely, a mix of both. Especially when she thought about some of the shenanigans they'd gotten up to during the past four years. No dorm rules or RAs (resident assistants) to keep them in check. Carina and Zondra off the chain. Was the world ready for that? Probably not, she admitted to herself.

"God help the world," she whispered with a smirk. "Batten down the hatches, matey, there's stormy seas ahead." Giggling, she continued her run.

Physical Therapy School would have her hitting the ground running. The first year would cover twenty classes and labs spread evenly over the four quarters. There would be no more lazy summers for her for the rest of her time in school. Well, no more lazy summers from now on, she guessed. It was time to grow up. It was a little intimidating to think about what lay ahead, but it was also pretty exciting. She was on the last leg of her educational journey and was determined to learn everything she could and do the best she could in each and every class and lab. Sarah suddenly thought of Chuck and the things he'd said over the course of the past year. His spoken desire to complete his different degrees. She'd understood what he was talking about from an intellectual standpoint all along, but hadn't understood his strong emotional commitment to his goals quite as well. Now, for the first time, she did. It was a lot like how she and her fellow Songbirds had felt about working to reach, and win, the national championship. Work hard and dedicate yourself to completing your goal. Grad school wouldn't be the same as working with her friends and singing, but it would be just as demanding, if not more. And it would definitely be more rewarding when she reached the end and graduated. I guess I might have a lot of long tiring days like Chuck has a good bit of the time, she mused. Something else we'll share. That and the snuggles. And the kisses. And if … when I get my way, more besides. Those thoughts brought a smile to her lips as she slowed her run into a jog to begin her cooldown process. It was time for dinner with Chuck.

Wednesday May 29

"Well?" Dr. Dreyfus asked, taking care not to sound too pushy. "Did you do as I asked? Did you think about those moments with Sarah when you lost yourself? No matter for how short a period of time?"

Chuck had been sitting across from the psychiatrist feeling rather comfortable. He was getting closer and closer to completing his preliminary research write-ups and might even have them completed by the time the baseball regionals started. If he was lucky.

The one fly in the ointment had been when he'd told Sarah, at dinner the previous evening, that Graham hadn't been able to give him a definitive answer when he'd asked about going to the Cape. The coach had said he wanted more time to see how Chuck's recovery and workouts were progressing before he made a final decision.

"So, it looks like we're going to have to wait until after the regional playoffs are over to find out what your summer plans are," Sarah had complained.

"Yeah, looks like it, sweetie. I'm sorry," he'd answered.

"Not your fault," she'd shrugged with a frown. "It's not anybody's fault. Except for that dumb baseball that hit you. And I'm not going to get mad at an inanimate object," Sarah had chuckled.

"Don't worry, I've already got that part covered," he'd pouted. She'd giggled at his expression and kissed it away before returning to her meal.

Dr. Dreyfus's question brought him back to the present and his feeling of comfort evaporated. He didn't really know why because his review of his memories had been fruitful.

"Yes, Sir, I did," he replied, feeling his palms begin to sweat.

"What did you find out?" the doctor calmly asked, his pen poised over his notepad ready to record his thoughts on Chuck's revelations.

"Well … Every time I froze or zoned out or whatever you call it, I came back soon after. Became aware of my surroundings again, I mean."

"Why do you think that is?" Dreyfus thought he knew the reason, but he wanted to hear what his patient had to say.

Chuck thought for a few moments before answering. "I'm not totally sure. But if I had to pick a reason, I'd have to say I came back so quickly because of Sarah." The psychiatrist wrote something on his notepad.

"Why do you think you came back because of Sarah?" Dr. Dreyfus asked.

"She keeps me grounded," came the quick reply.

"Grounded how?" Now the doctor was curious.

"Two reasons, I guess," Chuck shrugged. "First, Sarah makes me want to stay in the present. With her. The memories of my past aren't as strong as they used to be before I met her. When I was mostly alone. Being in the present has a stronger pull on me now because of her."

"OK, what's the second reason?" A small smile and a nod. More note taking. It was interesting to be treating someone so in tune with their thoughts and emotions while, at the same time, being so confused by them. In the nature versus nurture debate, Chuck was strong on the nature side but was lacking on the nurture side. Not due to any paucity of care from his parents, though. Chuck was deficient on the life experience side. His lack of context because of his singular childhood. Fascinating.

"Well, the second reason is when I do 'lose' myself or zone out or whatever, I don't really go too far, I guess you could say."

"What do you mean by that? Where do you go? If you know where and can tell me." Writing.

"Nowhere really. I'm just sort of reveling in the moment. Lost in it. Replaying it in my mind. Lost in the feelings she causes me to have. Both physically and emotionally."

Dreyfus smiled, you and every other young man in love with a pretty girl, Chuck. And a very smart one, at that. He asked another question. "Why do you think you don't have one of your episodes then?"

"Oh, that's an easy question," Chuck grinned. "It's because I'm with Sarah. She's right there. We have a … uh … connection."

"A connection? What do you mean? Can you describe it?"

"I'm not sure I can in any way that makes sense," Chuck screwed his face up in concentration and gave a one-shoulder shrug. "We just know when we're near each other. The closer we are to each other, the stronger our connection. When we touch it's almost like we feel an electric current passing between us. We call it our 'electric connection' because of that."

"Interesting," Dreyfus commented while writing something down on his pad. "Do you recall if you felt Sarah's presence while you were having your episode in the hospital?"

"Oh, yes Sir. Absolutely," Chuck nodded, picturing the light he saw during his episode and his certainty when Sarah was physically close to him. "We compared notes, as it were, when I woke up. Somehow, I definitely knew when she was in the room, holding my hand, and talking to me."

"Fascinating."

"Do you think that means I won't have issues during sex, Doctor?" the student asked, hopefully.

"As I said yesterday, there is no way to know for sure," the doctor answered levelly. "There's the strong evidence you just recounted of your other activities with Sarah and your reactions, but as you pointed out, too, sex is a more intense experience."

"What does that mean?"

"It means, Chuck, that you'll have to trust yourself. Trust Sarah. Trust this connection you told me about," Dr. Dreyfus advised. "And have faith."

"Take the leap and trust that Sarah will be there to catch me, you mean, don't you, Doctor?" Chuck said softly, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

"Yes, Chuck. That exactly," the doctor nodded. "Remember all she did to bring you back from your episode. How she was the one who was there in person, at the end, to bring you back."

"She was, wasn't she?" Chuck's mood brightened when he looked at it from the perspective Dr. Dreyfus had given him. "Thank you, Doctor."

"You're welcome," the older man smiled. Looking at his watch, he went on. "Now, let's talk a little bit more about some of your old memories. We still have some time."

Saturday June 1

And just like that, Stanford was in the loser's bracket. Mac Henderson had pitched a gem of a game on Friday evening against the Sacramento State Hornets, going seven full innings with six strikeouts against only three walks and three hits while keeping the opposing team scoreless. His latest yeomanlike outing saved the bullpen for the upcoming games, only requiring Cody Jenson to keep the State players off the basepaths because he only gave up one hit in his two innings of work. Stanford's batters made mincemeat of the Sac State pitching by collecting thirteen hits and three walks on the way to plating eleven runs. Only eight of them were earned because the Hornets' defense was a little suspect, resulting in two errors in the field. The final score was 11-0 in Stanford's favor, sending the Cardinal fan's confidence soaring. Prematurely, as it turned out.

With Chuck still not ready to take the mound as a starter, Hector Batista got the call for the second game of the regional against the Fresno State Bulldogs. Chuck's diligent work ethic was paying dividends so that he would, most likely, get some innings before the tournament was over, but Coach Graham and the rest of the coaching staff were hesitant to ask too much too soon of their still recovering lefty.

In an almost mirror image of the game on Friday, Fresno State roughed up Hector and the Cardinal relievers to the tune of eleven hits and four walks on the way to manufacturing seven runs, all earned. Stanford did have an error, but no one crossed home plate as a result, so it didn't affect the final outcome. The Bulldogs only used two pitchers. They combined for twelve strikeouts against only four hits, spreading five walks out so they didn't cause any damage. Stanford's only runs were two home runs, one in the top of the first and the second in the top of the ninth, well short of what the hometown boys needed to secure victory. The end result was a score of 7-2. Their win put Fresno State into the regional final. One more win and the Bulldogs would be off to the Super Regional series.

Sarah had crossed off her last pre-final item on her to-do list when she gave her oral presentation during class Friday morning. With no other immediate demands on her time, she'd been looking forward to watching Stanford continue their dominance on the diamond that she and her friends had been witnessing all spring. Friday's win had been expected, but Saturday's loss most certainly had not. Now, she and the rest of the Bartowski Backers were trying their best not to be despondent. Dr. Beckman's explanation of what came next didn't help matters.

"They'll have to play Sacramento State again tomorrow afternoon," she told the group sitting around her. The Hornets had taken care of the other team in the foursome, UC Santa Barbara, sending them home with two losses. "If we win, the boys will have to play Fresno again tomorrow evening. And win. Then it'll be another game Monday evening."

"That sounds like a lot. Maybe too much," Sarah complained with a worried frown, chewing on the inside of her cheek.

"It very well could be, Sarah. I won't sugarcoat it," Beckman agreed. "Going into the losers' bracket forces teams to play more games and use more of their pitchers in a very short amount of time in order to earn a chance to face the team in the winners' bracket. Fresno State, in this case. We'll have to play them twice to secure victory because it's a double elimination tournament and teams need two losses to be sent packing." Sarah shared a look with Ellie. The med student nodded.

"They'll use Chuck. They'll almost have to, won't they?" she asked the advisor.

"It's possible. A whole lot depends on the early game tomorrow against Sac State. A bad game and it's all over for this season," Dr. Beckman agreed. "If they have to use a lot of pitchers, it'll exhaust the bullpen and the final result will be the same, only it'll take longer.

"Well, sh—shoot," Sarah corrected. "Fingers crossed that doesn't happen then. I'm worried about them pushing Chuck, but I know he'll be upset if they don't use him and the team loses, regardless of whether or not he should be playing." She'd been certain that she could feel her boyfriend getting more and more anxious as the game had gone on that evening. Being confined to the dugout didn't sit well with Chuck. At all.

"You know my brother so well, Sarah," Ellie teased with a smirk, even if she shared her friend's concern.

"Maybe," the blonde shrugged. "But I do know that if I were in Chuck's shoes, I'd be chomping at the bit to get out there. I remember how frustrated I was last fall when I sprained my ankle and couldn't do all the stuff I wanted for the Songbirds."

"Like I said, you know him," the older woman grinned.

"One thing I do know is, it's late and I haven't seen my boyfriend since lunch. I'm heading over to the clubhouse to wait on him," Sarah nodded. Hearing Carina take a breath, she preempted her roommate. "Wait on him outside the clubhouse. Don't get any ideas, Carina."

"Too late," the redhead shot back.

Sarah just snorted and shook her head. "Alex, you want to come with me?"

"Right behind you, boss lady," Alex saluted.

"Alrighty then. Forward march." Sarah pointed toward the clubhouse.

"You sound like my dad," the brunette observed. The two women giggled at each other, ignoring the eye rolls of the other Backers as the group slowly broke up and went their separate ways.

"We'll see you tomorrow, Sarah," Ellie called as the pair walked away. The taller of the duo waved her hand over her head in acknowledgement. Ellie and a bemused Devon turned in the other direction and went in search of his car.

Sarah knew that it was going to be too late to spend any time with Chuck beyond walking together back to the dorm. It was already past 10pm. Once he and Morgan got out of the clubhouse, it would be even later. The game tomorrow was scheduled for noon, so a nice walk followed by even nicer kisses would have to suffice for the time being. She was really getting tired of all of the stuff that kept intruding on her Chuck time. That would have to change.

Sunday June 2

As disappointing as Stanford's game against Fresno State had been on Saturday, the game against Sacramento State Sunday afternoon was beyond amazing. With the season on the line and the hopes of his teammates and Cardinal fans weighing on his shoulders, sophomore Dennis Freeman pitched the game of his life. Stanford was the visiting team in the game and Freeman pitched all nine innings, going way above and beyond the call of duty. His pitch count hit 109 by the time the game was over but he made good use of each pitch he threw. Sacramento managed just six hits and scored only three runs, including a two-run homer in the bottom of the seventh inning. The sophomore pitcher did give up two walks, but neither one came around to score, meaning the damage was limited to his final stat line.

As brilliant as Dennis Freeman was for Stanford, Sacramento State's pitching performance was abysmal. The Hornets ran through six pitchers and it wasn't until they put in Connor Sparks to start the eighth inning that they managed to keep Stanford from scoring runs. Sparks only threw seventeen pitches and gave up a single hit before turning the ball over to Jack Zalasky, who recorded the last out against the Cardinal squad. The other four pitchers threw a combined 158 pitches, giving up twelve runs, eleven of them earned, on ten hits, seven walks, 2 wild pitches, and 1 hit batsman while only recording three strikeouts. When the dust settled, the Hornets were going home to the state capital. Stanford and Fresno State were the last two teams left standing. The stage was set for a showdown.

The early game against Sacramento State had thrilled the people in the ballpark and those watching and listening from farther away. Stanford's pitching and hitting had both been on fire and much more in keeping with what the fans had gotten used to seeing over the course of the regular season. Now, it was time for the evening game. The local boys' backs were against the wall. If Fresno State won, they'd move on to the Super Regional and Stanford's season would be over. If Stanford managed to cobble together a victory, it would earn them the right to do it all over again the next day.

Stanford pinned their hopes to keep their season alive on one of their midweek starters, Erik Miller. He had pitched so well in the final game against Arizona State to cap off the regular season the weekend prior that Graham felt confident giving him the ball again in a similar situation. Like Freeman in the game that afternoon, Miller rose to the occasion, keeping the Bulldogs from scoring any runs for the first three innings. The Cardinal pitcher limited the opposing batters to just two hits and one walk while striking out six Fresno State players. During those same three innings, Stanford tallied four runs on four hits along with seven walks to put the score at 4-0 in favor of the hometown gang.

All that changed in the fourth inning when the Bulldogs' leadoff batter, McCarthy Tatum, cranked the first pitch over the fence in left-center for a home run. Miller struck out the next batter on four pitches, but walked the next guy, designated hitter Matt Ottino, who promptly stole second. Fresno's right fielder, Nate Thimjon, then smacked a single to left field. The hit location prevented Ottino from advancing beyond second base, but now there were two runners to distract the Cardinal pitcher. Zach Presno, the first baseman and the fifth batter of the inning compounded the pain by stroking his own home run over the right field fence, scoring Ottino and Thimjon, giving Fresno State four runs in the inning and tying the game, 4 – 4. By the time Miller had secured the final out by getting the seventh hitter of the inning, center fielder Zach Ashford, to ground out to Larkin at short, his pitch count had reached 75 pitches. Now the Cardinal dugout was getting restless.

"Bartowski! Grimes!" Graham called out. "Head on down to the bullpen and start getting loose." The pair shared a wide-eyed look before they wordlessly grabbed their gear and left the dugout on a trot. Turning to Erik as he came off the field, Graham continued, "Miller, forget about that inning. It's over and done with. Get your head ready for the next one, but you're on a short leash." When the crowd saw who was heading to the bullpen some of them cheered. Was today the day?

Miller nodded with a frown, "Sorry, Coach." As he walked past on his way to get a cold drink.

"Forget about it, Erik," the coach repeated. "Your stuff is still good and you're making quality pitches. They just started seeing the ball better, that's all." Graham shrugged. "That's why you're on a short leash. Not because you gave up those runs. If they're going to continue to make contact like that, we'll need to switch you out for someone else. Give them something new to look at. You did fine, son."

"Thanks, Coach," Eric nodded with a small but grateful smile, appreciating the praise.

"… Well, well, well!" Big Mike interrupted his own running commentary on the game. "Look what we have here! I do believe I spy Chuck Bartowski and Morgan Grimes heading to the bullpen to join the guys already down there. Will we see the big lefty before too long? If so, that'll be interesting since Miller is also left-handed and coaches don't usually replace a pitcher with a new pitcher of the same kind. Unless they have to, that is. We'll have to wait and see what Coach Graham has in mind. Hope the kid is healed up, though. Everything is riding on this game. …"

The Cardinal fans were getting anxious, too. Not-so-quiet voices in the stands rose and fell like waves on a beach while the two teams switched places and Stanford got ready to bat. It was Alex who spotted the two friends making their way toward the Stanford bullpen along the right field foul line.

"Sarah! Chuck and Morgan are going to the bullpen!" the brunette exclaimed, excitedly, waving her arm and pointing. The blonde had already heard Big Mike on the radio, but looked where her friend was pointing anyway.

"Oh, boy!" Sarah breathed nervously. "Here it comes." Her knees started bouncing when the adrenaline began to really course through her body.

"Not for a while, yet," Ellie reminded her. "They still have to get loose and then warm up. So not just yet. But maybe soon," she added when she saw the concern on her friend's face. Sarah just groaned and began to wiggle in her seat.

"Look," Carina snarked. "It's the Nervous Girlfriend Workout." Her smirk fell off her face when she saw Sarah's pleading look and Ellie's glare. "Sorry, just trying to lighten the mood," she mumbled. Sarah hugged her, but didn't stop wiggling or bouncing her knees.

Stanford managed to relieve some of the mounting pressure in their half of the frame. Fresno State changed pitchers in an effort to cool off the Cardinal bats. Chris Ebersole nixed that plan when he drew a seven-pitch walk with one out then advancing to second on a wild pitch. That upset the new pitcher, Jamison Hill, so much that he promptly walked the next batter, DH Bobby Malcolm, this time on six pitches. After Shaw struck out looking to put up the second out, Mike Millard made Hill pay for those two walks by hitting a 2-2 fastball into right field. The single scored Ebersole and put Stanford back on top, 5-4. Millard was thrown out trying to stretch his single into a double, but Ebersole had already crossed home plate so that run still counted. Everyone wearing cardinal red breathed a small sigh of relief. They were ahead once again, but the game was far from over.

Erik Miller drew some inspiration from his teammates' actions with their bats because he came out for the top of the fifth inning with all cylinders firing. It took him only thirteen pitches to retire the side, including two strikeouts. People's hope was beginning to be rekindled. But Miller's pitch count now stood at 88. How much longer could he go on?

In the bottom of the fifth inning, the Cardinal offense stepped up to the plate (pun intended) and gave their pitcher some more run support. They ran through seven batters on their way to scoring three runs on four hits. Now, Stanford was ahead 8 – 4 going into the top of the sixth.

Some people were surprised when they saw Erik Miller jog out to the mound to begin his warm-up for the sixth inning. Dr. Beckman tapped Sarah on the shoulder and pointed to the Cardinal bullpen. Two players were up and throwing on the bullpen mounds, trying to get warmed up in case they were called upon during the inning. One of the players was Chuck.

"Oh, God," Sarah whispered. She nudged Ellie and inclined her head in the direction of the bullpen.

"It'll be OK, Sarah," the older woman said reassuringly. "The last thing Graham wants to do is get Chuck hurt again." She patted Sarah's bouncing leg. It kept bouncing anyway.

"I know that, but there's no way to protect him when he's out on that pitching mound," she groused.

"Graham knows that. And so does Chuck." Ellie nodded. "The rest of the team does, too. They'll all be as careful as they can be. Besides, they might not even put him in." Sarah gave her a flat look and Ellie sighed. "No, I don't believe that, either." The med student's own leg was beginning to bounce when she felt Devon's hand grip hers comfortingly while his other hand reached out to still her leg. Ellie couldn't keep the thankful tears out of her eyes when she faced him with a tremulous smile.

"It'll be OK, babe," Devon smiled. "Chuck is a warrior. You'll see." He leaned over and gently kissed her cheek.

"I hope you're right, Devon. I really do," she whispered. "More than anything else at this moment, I hope you're right." His confident nod and warm smile went some way to quell her disquiet. At least enough for her to return her attention to the game.

Even with his pitch count climbing, Miller managed to take care of the first two Bulldog hitters of the inning, both with strikeouts. He would have gotten out of the inning unscathed when Nate Thimjon hit a full count grounder right at shortstop Bryce Larkin, except Larkin booted the ball and his error allowed Thimjon to reach first. Then the Fresno State right fielder stole second the first chance he got. Miller got so flustered by Bryce's unaccustomed error that he walked the very next batter, Zach Presno, on five pitches. Graham instantly sent Sam Bradbury down to the bullpen to supervise the warmups.

"… There's Bradbury on his way to check on his guys in the bullpen. Looks like Miller's leash just got shorter. …" Big Mike told his listeners. Sarah saw the look in Dr. Beckman's eye, so she silently sent her love to her boyfriend.

"… In the box now is Jeff Jamison. He's hitless so far today, striking out each of his previous three at bats. Let's see if Mr. Miller can make it four times. He gets the sign. Checks the runners. … Sets … And throws. It's a ball! That fastball was too low. Shoot! Well, the count's 1-0 (one ball and no strikes). Miller looks in and nods. Gets set. Checks Thimjon on second. Now, he's ready. There's the pitch … Jamison tagged it! That's a double to left center! Thimjon scored. Presno made it to third and Jamison was safe at second. The run is unearned due to Larkin's error, but it still counts. That makes the score 8-5. Still in our favor, but the gap is closing. Two men are on, second and third. There're two outs. I'm looking at the Cardinal bullpen. Bartowski and Grech are throwing in earnest now. I'm betting that Miller will be gone if he allows one more runner to reach base. It's too close. A three-run cushion isn't much in college baseball. Not with these metal bats."

Sarah groaned. "The suspense is killing me!" she complained. No one bothered to tease her. They were all feeling the same way.

"Miller's pitch count now stands at 111. He's got to be almost out of gas by now. Shouldn't Graham go to one of the guys warming up? … Guess not yet. No one is going out to get Miller. Ashford is coming to the plate. OK. Let's see what happens. … The pitcher gets the sign. Gets set. He eyes the guy on third. And the pitch … It's a ball! That two-seam fastball tailed a little too far inside for the umpire's liking. Gomez throws it back to Miller. The sign. Looks over at Presno on third. Looks in and picks up the catcher's glove. Throws … Strike! Ol' Erik tossed a sweet, sweet strike. A nice changeup on the outside edge. Ashford didn't even take the bat off of his shoulder. That makes the count 1-1. Miller's got the ball back now. Gets the sign from Gomez and goes set. Eyes third. Then throws … Contact! Right to Millard at second. Should be an easy out. WAIT! An error! Millard bobbled it! Everyone's safe. Presno scored! Jamison got to third and Ashford was safe at first! What a lousy turn of events. That's twice now that errors have extended the inning and allowed the Bulldogs to score two runs out of it. What is the matter with the middle of our infield this evening? Your guess is as good as mine, folks. And that's all for Miller. Graham is coming out of the dugout. No indication yet of which reliever he wants. There it is. He's tapping his left hand! He wants Bartowski! Here we go! Graham takes the ball from Miller and pats him on the back. Nice ovation from the crowd. Well deserved. All in all, a pretty nice outing for the mid-week starter. The final line on Miller is 5 2/3 innings pitched. Six runs, four of them earned, on six hits with three walks and twelve, that's right twelve, strikeouts in 114 pitches. There were two errors in this inning, so far, but until now the defense had been stellar. Looks like it's a double switch with Grimes replacing Gomez behind the plate. Makes sense since Grimes has been the one to catch Bartowski all season."

As soon as the fans saw Chuck jogging out to the mound with Morgan at his side, they started to cheer. No matter what happened, it was fantastic to see him out there, spikey hair and all.

Sarah felt the tears in the corners of her eyes so she shut them tight to stop them from falling. Please, please, please, she silently begged. Please keep him safe. Please, oh please!

"Me too, Sarah. Me too," Ellie whispered in her ear. Sarah opened her eyes and blinked rapidly trying to hold the tears at bay. She nodded at her boyfriend's sister. Then Carina leaned in close.

"It'll be OK, Sarah. You'll see," her roommate said with quiet confidence. It was her friend's serious tone that broke through her barriers, sending tears coursing down her cheeks. She wasn't alone.

"OK, Chuck," Graham said when the duo reached the mound. "It's your ball. Get this next guy. If anything feels wrong. And I do mean anything. Give me a signal and we'll come running. Alright?"

Chuck nodded and blew out a nervous breath. "Got it, Coach. But I gotta say that I'm more than a little skittish out here."

"I understand. We all do," Graham nodded, along with the other eight players surrounding the mound. "Stay safe. No rain today, so if a ball gets hit anywhere near you, get the hell out of the way and let these knuckleheads deal with it. Capiche?"

"Yes, Coach. Will do," Chuck nodded.

"Just do the 'Morgan', dude, and you'll be fine," Morgan said, patting his friend's back.

"The Morgan?" Bryce asked. Graham's eyes widened. He wondered what the short catcher was talking about too.

"My signature move from when we were kids and bullies were after me," Morgan explained. "Fall to the ground, curl up into a ball, and cover your head with your arms. Then wait for the cavalry to arrive, usually in the form of my buddy Chuck here." That got the group chuckling.

"Yeah, do that, Chuck," Rodger Mason teased. "We'll save you." Chuck grinned and blushed. More chuckles.

"Not a bad idea, Chuck," Graham admitted. The pitcher looked at him incredulously. "I'm serious. We want to see what you can do out here, but the most important thing is for you to be safe. You're still rehabbing."

"Right," Chuck nodded. "Got it. Stay safe."

"OK. Blue is headed this way, so go warm up. Everyone else, go back to your places," the coach directed.

After some pats on his back, the other players retreated to their positions and Chuck got busy tossing his warmup pitches under Coach Graham's watchful eye. Once he was finished with the eight warmup pitches, he was permitted, he nodded and Graham retreated to the dugout.

Chuck took a deep breath and slowly blew it out. "Here we go," he murmured.

"Here we go," Sarah murmured from her seat in the stands. By this time, Ellie was tightly grasping her left hand and Carina was doing the same to her right. Dr. Beckman had her hands on Sarah's shoulders. The remaining Bartowski Backers seemed to be leaning toward her to offer what support they could from a distance. This was it.

Chuck quickly looked around the field, noting where his teammates were positioned. He picked up the rosin bag and gave his left hand a few pats. He was sweating. Big surprise. Stepping up on to the mound, he toed the rubber and looked at Morgan for the sign. Four-seam fastball. Of course. The first rule of pitching is: throw your fastball. If they can't hit the fastball, why throw anything else? Keep throwing the fastball until they do hit it, then start mixing it up. If you have control and can locate your pitches, you're golden. Chuck smiled at the memories of his youth coaches repeating those truisms endlessly. Even to him, the kid who literally couldn't forget. He snorted. That was then. This is now. Time to go to work. He nodded at his old friend and came set …

"… Bartowski checks on Jamison on third. That guy is playing it safe, Chuck. No need to worry about him. Focus on the batter. There's the pitch … A strike! Boo yah! It was one of those purdy, purdy four-seam fastballs that Bartowski loves to throw, on the outside edge of the plate. Just above the knees. Bins didn't even swing at it. Good stuff! He's got another sign. He throws … Ball! That was another four-seam fastball, but it was too far inside. The count is 1-1. A new sign now. Bartowski quickly looks at both runners before picking up Grimes' glove behind the plate. The pitch … Another ball! That four-seamer was too far outside this time. It looks like young Bartowski is still working on regaining his control after his long time away. That puts the count at 2-1, in Carter Bins' favor. Bartowski steps off the mound and goes back to the rosin bag. Showing a little bit of nerves, but who can blame him? I sure can't. OK, he's back on the hill and taking the sign. He nods and gets set. Checks and throws. A foul ball! Bins took that four-seam fastball over the visiting team dugout into the stands on the left side of the field. OK, Chuck, he's caught on to your heater. Now it's time to go to work. That foul ball evens the count at 2-2, but Bartowski is going to have to start mixing things up or he's going to be in trouble. Mark my words. Right. He's got the next sign and nods his agreement. Gets set, checks, and throws. Another foul ball. This time up and over the backstop behind home plate. That was Bartowski's nasty 12-6 curveball. It was in for a strike so Bins swung on it in self-defense and just got a piece of it. Bins steps out of the box and takes a few practice swings, trying to throw Bartowski off his rhythm. He steps back in the box and digs in. Grimes puts down the sign and his partner nods. Bartowski looks over at Jamison on third to see if he's still paying attention during this long at bat. Guess he is. The kid sets and throws. Another foul ball! This time Bins took a two-seam fastball and knocked it into the Stanford bullpen. Luckily the ball didn't hit anyone. We don't need any more of that happening this season. Lots of noise, but the count is still locked at 2-2. Six pitches in this at bat, so far. Bartowski is giving it everything he's got and Bins is fighting him off each time. What a battle! … Both players are ready to joust one more time. Bartowski looks for the sign. Nods. Bins digs in and settles his shoulders. Bartowski comes set and looks over at third. Now, he's eyeing his catcher. There's the throw … A strike! He struck him OUT! Bartowski and Grimes pulled off another of those disgusting 12-6 curveballs. It buckled Bins' knees, but he didn't take the bat off of his shoulder! He struck out looking. After that epic at bat, he went down with a whimper. That's it! Inning over! Bartowski came in and stopped the bleeding. Welcome back, young man. Welcome back!"

"Big brass balls," Casey murmured from where he stood next to Graham. The head coach merely nodded.

"Welcome back, Chuck," Graham said to himself. "It's good to have you with us."

Chuck ran off the field and into a gauntlet of high-fives from his teammates and cheers from the watching crowd. He refused to look into the stands because he knew if he did and saw Sarah, he'd lose it completely.

When Stanford came in to bat, Bradbury got Jack Little up in the bullpen. They weren't going to take any chances with Chuck. He'd go out to pitch in the top of the seventh inning, but would be on the shortest of leashes imaginable. No one wanted to put responsibility for the game on his shoulders his first time back in the lineup. Not when he was still getting back up to full fighting form.

Fresno State changed pitchers before facing the first Cardinal batter in the inning and it paid dividends. The new pitcher, Nik Cardinal (ironic), struck out the side, only giving up a single to Bryce Larkin that didn't amount to anything. Eighteen pitches and that was that. Chuck was going back out after only a very short rest. Both Ellie's and Sarah's eyes widened when they saw Chuck walking out to the mound to start the seventh inning. Here we go again, they both thought.

"Looks like they're sticking with Bartowski, at least for now. With Grech and Little both up and throwing in the bullpen, you gotta wonder how long Graham and Bradbury will keep Bartowski out there. Guess we'll have to find out. First up, is JT Arruda, the Bulldog shortstop. Bartowski's ready. Arruda's ready. We're ready. OK, let's go.

"Arruda grips his bat and digs in. Bartowski looks in for the sign and nods. He comes set and goes into his full windup. There's the pitch … A ball! He tried to throw his slider and just missed a little low. That's OK. That's OK. Grimes puts down a new sign. Bartowski nods. There's the windup and the throw … A strike! That was a screaming four-seam fastball on the inside edge of the plate just below the letters on Arruda's jersey. High, but not too high. And it was a strike. That puts the count at 1-1. The pitcher leans in and sees the sign. There's the nod. He winds up and makes the pitch. … A hit! Arruda singled to second and beat the throw. He took a two-seam fastball and got enough of it to tally a hit. Bartowski scampered off the mound and put his hands over his head as soon as Arruda made contact. He went one way and the ball went the other. Who wouldn't, if you were in his shoes? Now, he's shrugging and holding his hands up with a smile. What are you going to do, indeed? Get out of the way, apparently. Smart kid. The crowd agrees, clapping and laughing at their pitcher's antics. But Graham has seen enough and they're bringing in the closer, Jack Little. It's a bit early, but Graham and Bradbury are being cautious with Bartowski and the game, both."

Chuck smiled and gave Jack the ball when the other player reached the mound. Graham and the rest of players in the field all gave him a pat on the back before he left for the dugout. The people in the stands rose to their feet to show their appreciation for the returning pitcher. Chuck smiled and waved. There would be other days. He still didn't look toward Sarah. He'd thrown just ten pitches, but they might have been the most important pitches he'd ever thrown in his life up to that point.

Jack Little made sure that the hit Chuck gave up never came around to cross home plate. He and Nik Cardinal spent the rest of the game locked in a pitchers' duel. No more runs were scored by either team. When the game ended, they shared almost identical stat lines. Cardinal threw 48 pitches resulting in one hit, one walk, and six strikeouts. Little threw 45 pitches that resulted in two hits, no walks, and five strikeouts. The important thing was that Stanford had won, 8-6, and lived to fight another day.

While the fans in the stands were cheering and clapping, the two teams met in the middle of the field for the traditional handshake line. Every Fresno State player and coach shook Chuck's hand and congratulated him on his return to the diamond. Competition was one thing, but this was more important. Chuck's injury could have happened to any of them. His own team did the same thing after the Bulldogs left the field. They wanted to show Chuck how much his return to the mound meant to them.

He smiled through it all, as best he could, but the weight of events was beginning to take its toll on him. As soon as Chuck got the chance, he grabbed his gear bag from the dugout and started toward the clubhouse up behind the stands on the first base side of the field. He had only taken a couple of steps when he saw Sarah standing in front of him with tears coursing down her cheeks, but wearing the biggest smile. Behind her he could see Ellie, Devon, and the CATS along with some others who he didn't recognize with his quickly blurring vision. Before he couldn't see clearly any longer, Chuck noticed that Ellie and the CATS were all crying. Even Devon was looking teary-eyed. He did see his girlfriend begin to move toward him, though.

Chuck dropped his bag a second before Sarah wrapped her arms around him in a fierce hug.

"I'm so proud of you, baby. So proud and so relieved," she said from where her head was pressed into his chest.

"Thanks. Me too," he gulped, fighting a losing battle with his own emotions. When Sarah squeaked out 'I love you', he lost it. The floodgates opened and Chuck cried his relief into her hair. The people watching the two of them smiled, softly cheering and clapping the entire time. There were even a few 'Awwwws'. The embracing couple didn't hear any of it.

The stage was set for the epic final showdown the next day between the same two teams, but at that exact moment Chuck and Sarah couldn't have cared less. A huge weight had been lifted off of his shoulders, he'd taken another step on his road to full recovery, and their relationship had gotten deeper and stronger. All three things at the same time. Those were the things that mattered to them. It was a momentous day.

A/N2: Chapter title comes from the song by Bryan Adams. All the things Chuck and Sarah do to help and support each other.

A/N3: Krass Brothers Men's Store was a real place and they did have hilariously terrible commercials. Google the name if you want to cringe and laugh. Remember, you can't unsee them, either. You've been warned. The jewelry store and the real estate company are fictional.

A/N4: The American Express Centurion Card, known informally as the Amex Black Card, is an invitation-only card. The invitation is extended to Platinum Card holders after appropriate net worth with American Express, credit, spending criteria are met. Amex doesn't disclose the exact requirements. Most reliable sources agree that Centurion Card holders have historically spent US$250,000 or more per year on lower-level Amex cards. It comes in personal and business variants and provides a range of extra perks not available to other card holders. The fee to join is US$10,000 and the annual fee is US$5,000.

A/N5: Resident advisors (RAs) — also known as resident assistants — are trained, college-aged mentors. They help create a supportive and safe environment for students living in dorms or other student housing.

A/N6: I can always count on WillieGarvin to check my scribbling to make sure it's coherent. If it wasn't for him, you lot would send me to the showers. Thanks for all of your hard work, my friend, it's very much appreciated.

A/N7: 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's followed or favorited this story, too. Your support means a lot to me.

A/N8: 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.