There's a little black spot on the sun today

It's the same old thing as yesterday

There's a black hat caught in a high tree top

There's a flag pole rag and the wind won't stop

"King of Pain"

The Police

September 29, 2021

Carmichael Industries, Los Angeles, California

"What? What is it?" Cole asked, seeing the horrified look pass between Chuck and Sarah.

Shaking out of her daze, Sarah spoke quickly to Casey. "Vivian broke up with him last night, Casey."

"Huh. She finally smartened up," Casey grumbled to himself, even as he quickly understood the seriousness of the situation, and refocused his attention.

"No, Casey, you don't understand," Sarah shouted. "If he's guilty of what you're telling us you think he did, he just lost his access to us. At least some of it."

"It…it's worse than just that, Cole," Chuck explained.

Casey, Beckman, and Sarah all stopped, their eyes riveted on Chuck. "Chuck," Sarah whispered sharply. Sarah exchanged a frantic glance with Casey, watching as he cut the audio to the satellite feed.

"No," Chuck spoke up. He sighed in exasperation, gesticulating wildly. "Look, the man was tortured for 12 hours and he kept the secret about me. We can trust him," Chuck insisted.

Casey turned to Beckman. "He's right. Barker was the only loose end we never needed to tie up, in all that time." Everyone in the room saw the confusion, the women on the screen exchanging curious glances as the line went dead.

"Come on, Chuck. What gives?" Cole asked again.

His bottom jaw shaking, Chuck began. "There's something, even after all the intel that the Sentries seem to have, that they don't know. We had data on my sister's computer at Westside Medical, and we're certain it's secure. Information about my son."

"Your nine year old son?" Cole asked skeptically, glancing between Chuck and Sarah.

Chuck nodded. "He was born with an Intersect, which when he's an adult, will function probably better than the cybernetic version the Sentries have been trying to build. He's their ultimate blueprint, if they find out about him."

"You said the data was secure, though, didn't you?" Cole asked.

"The data is. But Liam was there when Stephen flashed. He saw it. We all freaked out. If he actually understood what it is he saw…then…then," Chuck stuttered, the fear overwhelming his rational thought.

"Good lord," Cole muttered under his breath. He was thinking rapidly, lifting his hand and motioning for Casey to turn the audio back on. "Ladies, this is priority one. We needed that data yesterday. Find out where that money came from. If he was selling data in any shape or form, find out what and to whom. Put the pieces of the puzzle together."

Zondra and Carina exchanged glances on the monitor. "Don't worry guys, we'll get it done," Carina assured them.

"Thank you, team," Casey said as he clicked off the feed.

"You need to find Liam Conklin, now," Cole ordered.

"We're aware of that, Agent Barker," Beckman said stiffly.

"We're on it," Casey said. Turning to Chuck and Sarah, he added, "Go talk to Vivian, now. Tell her the truth. Ask her if she'll help us find him. Help the NSA find him."

"I'll do it," Sarah volunteered. Sarah knew how upset Vivian already was. Having to tell her that her boyfriend may have only feigned interest in her to get sensitive information, using her, would only make it worse. It was better coming from a friend.

"Chuck, get Morgan involved and have him start shifting around the workflow, clear your agenda so you can work on the problem at hand. Any non-coding help you need, get from Vivian," Casey instructed.

"What about coding help?" Chuck asked.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Beckman grumbled.

"That's enough for now. I'm told Mary is already in place. Corrine will be at your house by the time your kids get home." Casey paused, his stern exterior softening slightly. "I know it's a lot. That it seems really bad right now. But spies or not, this team is by far the best I've ever worked with, the best I've ever seen. This has been going on for a long time. But we'll finish it."

His mouth a twisted grimace, Chuck nodded, feeling the weight of all of it on his shoulders.

"I'll go talk to Vivian," Sarah told him quietly. "But I have to leave at 3:30, for Stephen's archery…practice," Sarah finished weakly, her voice inexplicably breaking. The normalcy of her words, juxtaposed with their surroundings, seemed to squeeze her throat closed.

"Hey, hey," Chuck said, turning to Sarah. "Casey's right. It's gonna be ok. We will be ok." Sarah's disquiet slowly melted into a smile, as she rested her head against his shoulder briefly before she stood up. "Andrea's bringing the girls home from soccer. Is that going to work? Casey, do they–"

"Your security knows all the details. They're safe, Sarah," Casey told her.

Sarah smiled at him, nodded to everyone else, and left the room. Casey and Beckman were packing up when Chuck talked to Cole again. "What about Hannah?" Chuck asked him.

"I'm on my way back to check on her before I go back to my hotel," he told Chuck. "Come with me now, if you want."

"You should…you should, you know, make sure it's all right with her, if you can," Chuck explained. "We didn't exactly part on the best of terms, and I don't want to make anything worse. I just…"

Chuck looked down, seeing Cole tapping at his phone as they spoke. "She said it's fine, Chuck. Let's go."

September 29, 2012

Undisclosed location, Los Angeles, California

Cole had explained how much, and what specifics Hannah knew, the moment Chuck ended the call with Morgan concerning the discussion at the end of the meeting. As always, the dispersal of information was controlled. Chuck thought back to his own past, knowing the number of people who knew he was a spy, compared to the number that had known he was the Intersect. Cole had told Hannah Chuck had been a spy, mostly because what he had been telling her was so unbelievable and her trusting him had been imperative to her and her children's safety. The real reason, that she was in danger because it appeared to an outsider that Chuck could have fathered her children, was unknown to her. It would have required too much information be relayed to her, information that was superfluous, and unnecessarily dangerous.

Cole turned off the car, grabbing Chuck's hand and stopping him from opening the car door. "Before you go in, can I ask you what happened between you two?"

"It's a long story. Why does it matter?" Chuck asked.

"It doesn't, not really. But it might help me to understand what the Sentries thought. And I didn't want to bring it up in front of your wife, or Hannah for that matter," he explained. "How long were you dating?"

Chuck looked away uncomfortably. "I think technically, we weren't even really ever, you know, officially dating."

"Bloody hell, Chuck, are you kidding? What the hell happened to you?" Cole asked in disbelief.

Testily, Chuck spat out. "We met on the plane. She told me she lost her job. I mentioned the Buy More. She showed up in Burbank and Morgan hired her. She got sucked into a mission by accident and almost got killed. I saved her life. We had sex. We had dinner with my sister and her husband. We had sex again. She asked me to meet her parents, and I showed up and told her we couldn't see each other anymore. Not my finest moment by any stretch, Cole," he said through gritted teeth, full of self reproach.

"No wonder she said what she did when I mentioned you," Cole mumbled, almost to himself.

"That's why I wanted to talk to her. It's been a long time, but there was so much I couldn't explain to her back then," he said.

"Like I told you, I had to tell her some things. I first made contact with her at the cemetery, the day she buried her husband," Cole explained. "It was as awful as you could imagine. But she was better, you know, when I contacted her again a few days ago. She's just frightened, understandably so." He waited a few moments, checking his phone. "I got the signal, the coast is clear. Come on," he urged, opening his own car door.

As Chuck climbed the front steps behind Cole, he found his hands sweating from his nerves, rolling the words over in his head, thinking of what he should say and how he should say it. His gaze drifted into the house, a typical CIA safe house, from what he could see. He had noted the security on the outside of the dwelling, virtually invisible but standing out in the mind of someone who knew what to look for. He looked into the living room, seeing the back of her head as she sat on the sofa, talking to two young children seated on the floor, who were using the coffee table as a desk for homework, two open computers and notebooks scattered about the surface.

"Hannah," Cole said gently, for once not startling her with his sudden appearance. She turned her head, taking in the sight of him, with Chuck standing behind him, his hands tucked into his pockets, mainly to keep them still in his unease. Her children looked up briefly, curious, but shy, focusing back on their schoolwork but stopping the chatter with their mother. Her nervous, hesitant smile was familiar, but she looked older, probably as old as he did. Her brown hair was streaked with white, still short, gently brushing the tops of her shoulders.

As he approached, Chuck watched her take a deep breath. Being a father himself, he instinctively knew what she was doing–masking her dismay from her children, so they wouldn't be concerned or start to ask her questions that she couldn't answer. "Hi Chuck," she said softly, in the naturally hushed, whispery tone that had always been her voice. Her clear green eyes were full of sadness, making him almost catch his breath. He noted very fine lines etched around her eyes and on her forehead, added by the years that spaced between now and their last meeting.

"Hi, Hannah," he said softly, forcing a lightness into his voice for the sake of her children, who were watching him out of the corners of their eyes like hawks. Her son was dark-haired, like his mother, even in his seated position showing his excessive height for what Chuck knew was his age, two years older than his own son. His sister had long auburn hair, braided tighty and draped over her shoulder. Both of her children had soft chocolate brown eyes.

"There is an office on the other side of the kitchen, where you two can have your meeting," Cole said loudly enough for her children to hear, keeping up the appearance of the cover for why she was there and what she was doing.

She stood, patting her son on his shoulder as she cleared the sofa, walking down the hall behind Cole, while Chuck trailed behind. The office was decorated in neutral colors, beige walls and tan furniture. The desk in the room was darkly stained, pushed against the wall. The windows in the room were up high against the ceiling, covered with ivory sheers, the sunlight painfully bright in the light-colored room. Cole smiled gently as he left them alone.

"You look good, Chuck," she said with a smile, tucking herself into one of the chairs in the room. He sat stiffly in the chair across from her, pulled away from the desk. Hers was an armchair–he sat in a wobbly chair with wheels.

The air was heavy around him, knowing her words were sincere, but still her attempt to break the ice, so to speak. She didn't need flippant comments, vague pleasantries. He could have replied with the same type of nicety, but it would have been hollow. "I'm so sorry, Hannah," he gushed, feeling how distraught she was, meaning it to encompass everything, but hoping first and foremost to convey his sympathy for her loss.

She blinked away her tears. She breathed out, looking over his shoulder up at the window. "When Cole contacted me, I won't lie, I was so…angry. But it isn't your fault, I know that now."

"If you had known the truth, if I had told you the truth back then–"

"I know why you couldn't, Chuck. Cole explained it to me," she said quietly. "And before you apologize again for anything, I need to explain something to you. Something about me, that I don't think you knew." She folded and unfolded her hands in her lap, tugging at the hem on her blouse in her discomfort. "When I met you, I was literally at rock bottom. It may not have seemed like it…I think I did a good job of hiding it. The reason I got fired from my job–the one I told you about on the plane–was because I was sleeping with my boss, the one who fired me, once his wife found out about us. I chased after you, I came on to you, I acted like a complete fool, falling all over you while we were at work together. I threw myself at you, and took advantage of your emotional vulnerability, and then berated you afterward for taking advantage of me." Her voice turned harsh. "And then I got pregnant from a one night stand on my way out of California. I was really messed up back then, and I wasn't fair to you, at the end there. I'm sorry."

She had to strain to hear him when he replied. "It doesn't excuse how I treated you. I was in a lot of pain, and I feel like I used you, and that's not who I thought I was, not who I wanted to be. I never meant to hurt you, Hannah."

"You were in love with Sarah. I knew it, even back then. I tried to pretend that I could, you know, make you forget her, somehow just fill up that empty space in your life and be enough for you. I knew when we were together, like that," she stressed, the color rising in her cheeks at the intimate inference, "that you were thinking of her. I knew it, and I let it continue. It was desperate and pathetic, and I should never have let myself get into a situation like that," she told him.

He closed his eyes, ashamed that she was right, in retrospect knowing he had done exactly what she was saying he'd done. "It doesn't excuse me for doing that, just because you say you knew," he added softly.

She saw the sincerity on his face, suddenly understanding from the past when he had been like this, and when he had actually been lying. "So can we just leave it there, that we both made a huge mistake, and caused each other some undue pain, and get past it?" she offered. "That was a long time ago."

He nodded slowly, surprised by everything she had said. "I'm sorry, Hannah, so sorry…about your husband. That they came after your family because of me."

Tears were streaming down her cheeks, but she smiled a ghost of a smile, as she searched for words. "You, uh, you risked your life to save mine. It was so much more than just how it seemed back then, I realize that now. Cole told me if you had known what was happening to me, that you would have tried to help me. I believe that. I really do."

He shifted uncomfortably in the chair, rubbing his hand across his forehead. She broke the long silence. "I met my husband, Jacques, a week after I was back in Paris. He worked at the IT firm that hired me, after I quit the Buy More. I was already pregnant when I met him. He was the…sweetest, kindest, most wonderful man I'd ever met. He promised he would take care of me, of all of us, and he did." She swiped the tears from her cheeks, quickly, knowing her demeanor would be hard to explain to her children.

There were a thousand different things he could say to her, but none of them really mattered. In the end, they were just empty words. He couldn't begin to imagine how much pain losing the man she had described had caused her. He felt his own eyes start to sting, not wanting to lose control of his emotions in front of her. Unbidden and unwelcome in the moment, he remembered the closest he had probably ever felt to that in his own life.

March 15, 2014

Westside Medical Center, Los Angeles, California

Chuck followed the doctor down the hallway, completely on autopilot, unaware of how his feet were staying in contact with the ground. As the hours had passed, the anxiety eating away at his insides, his nerves frayed beyond repair, he had begun to convince himself that at any moment someone would come and tell him that she was gone, or that he would have to hurry to say goodbye before he lost her. He was afraid to see what she looked like, afraid that now, following the doctor, he would be seeing her for the last time. They had told him only a few minutes.

The room he entered was larger than he expected, stark and cold, with a cement-colored floor. He almost couldn't see her on the bed. Silver heat blankets completely covered her, tucked across her body and up around her face, leaving only her pale white skin and her long blonde hair visible, that hair now streaked with dried, uneven ribbons of blood. "All those transfusions in rapid succession lowered her body temperature. That's why the thermal blankets," the doctor explained as he stood at Chuck's elbow. At the terrified look on Chuck's face, the doctor hesitated. "They need to move her. Please, make it as quick as you can."

"Is she…is she going to survive this?" he asked, bracing himself for the answer.

"Mr. Bartowski, just sit with her. While you still have time," the doctor replied, his eyes darkened with an experienced sadness, answering Chuck's question with the gentlest way of saying "probably not" that he could have. He didn't remember walking to her bedside, overwhelmed with a nauseatingly strong, metallic scent of blood mixed with heavy antiseptic. The lines in his vision blurred as his eyes filled with tears, falling into the chair beside her bed.

"Sarah, I'm here," he said tremulously, forcing a strength into his voice that he didn't feel. "I know you couldn't reach me...I know…" He swallowed down the tears, the hopeless despair that rose at the thought. "I know, but I'm here now. I'm so sorry, Baby," he added, whispering as his voice cracked, the pain raging against his restraints holding it back. "Please keep fighting. I know you can. You can do anything, Sarah. I love you," he said, tears streaming down his face as he leaned in and kissed her cheek, brushing his hand across her forehead, horrified at how chilled her skin was.

His lips came away cold. His only other memory of her like this, she had been burning up with fever. Now, her body was fighting the massive blood loss. Her skin had paled so drastically it appeared translucent, her blond eyelashes looking black, the contrast was so severe. He looked up, seeing the third transfusion was in process, feeling the throbbing in the crook of his arm where the bandage was tightly pressed. She had bled out the other two units that had infused during surgery. This was his blood, he knew. He would have given her all of it, no questions, had they let him. Such a strange thought, seeing it trail down the tube and into her arm. The sight still weakened him, thinking of the needles and his blood, knowing how covered in her own blood she was under the blankets.

His love for her was part of him--in his blood and his bones and every fiber of who he was, tangible and intangible. If nothing else, he hoped some of that made its way inside her with each drop of fluid. So that somehow she could still know, in case she couldn't hear him.

September 29, 2021

Undisclosed Location, Los Angeles, California

"Chuck? Chuck, what?" Hannah asked, cutting into his reverie.

He folded his lips together, pressing them closed as he bit down. He had completely unraveled back then, the only thing holding him together being his family and friends who had rallied around him. And even in his darkest moments, sitting on the hospital floor alone, crying until his throat was raw and he couldn't breathe, the seemingly bottomless pit of hopelessness hadn't swallowed him, because she had survived. This woman in front of him had buried the love of her life, then a few days later, picked up her children and ran from an assassin. Her courage left him in awe of her, as he sat there, seeing a different woman than the one he had known so long ago.

He stood resolutely, clenching his hands into tight fists to keep her from seeing them shaking. "I was too late to save your husband. And I'm sorry for that. But I promise you, no one is going to hurt your children or you."

"Cole said that you're not…you and Sarah aren't spies anymore," Hannah said, confused.

"We're not. But for reasons that I still can't completely explain to you, Sarah and I have been pulled back in, not completely, but we're in. We're going to find the people who are after you and stop them. Cole is a good guy. He'll keep you safe until we do," he said reverently.

"Thank you, Chuck. Honestly. I can't thank you enough, for your help, for coming here," she gushed.

"After all that, it's the very least I could do," he said quietly.

The silence was broken by the gentle knock on the door. The door opened slightly, Cole standing with his hand on the doorknob. "We'd better get back, Chuck. Is everything all right in here?" Cole called.

"Yes, everything is fine," she said, a genuine smile lighting her face.

"If you need anything, please let me know. Any way I can help, I will," Chuck told her.

She nodded, still smiling, swiping at her wet eyes, as the two men disappeared from her sight.

September 29, 2021

Carmichael Industries, Los Angeles, California

"Vivian, talk to me," Sarah asked, as she anxiously watched her friend, sitting forward on her desk chair, weeping into the hands she pressed over her face.

"What an absolute bastard! How did I not see that?" she hissed, snapping a tissue from the box on her desk and pulling it to dab at her eyes.

"We don't know anything for sure. The team in Europe is still working," Sarah offered, trying to be fair.

"Regardless, he was still lying to me, hiding things from me. And if it is as bad as it could be, your entire family is in danger because of my inability to see that duplicity," she growled, clenching her fist on the desktop.

"He fooled us all, Vivian, regardless of how deep he is actually in. But that's part of why I'm here. Casey is trying to find him. We need your help. All the information you have, that you know. It could help. Can you do that?" Sarah asked.

"Of course," she said simply, collecting herself, suddenly seeing a purpose to direct her out of her self-pity. Mumbling to herself, she said, "My father didn't like him. He told me that I don't know how many times. But he never butted in. He obviously saw something I didn't, naive as I was."

"You trust people. You want to trust people. That's not a bad thing, Viv. It actually reminds me of someone else I know. Considering how you grew up, I know you never felt like you could trust anybody. I was the same way. Learning it all is hard. But I promise you, trusting the right person makes all the difference," Sarah said with a smile. One corner of Vivian's mouth turned up, understanding Sarah's references, taking them to heart.

"How did he bamboozle my mother?" Vivian asked, her face pursed in annoyed confusion. "She's been a spy for 30 years."

Sarah thought she had an idea, for the amount of time she had known Corrine. "Because she's your mother. She wants you to be happy. She missed your entire life and had to make up for it these past few years. Her natural disposition is complete distrust of everyone. I'm sure she tempered that, for your sake. I doubt she ever suspected he was selling information to the ring of terrorists she had been deep under cover in for years and years. I'm sure if you ask her, she'll tell you what she really thought of him."

Vivian nodded, deep in thought, contemplating Sarah's words. She wiped her cheeks, drying the last of her tears, dabbing at her eyes with her fingertips. "Do I look a fright?" she asked her friend.

"You look fine, I promise," Sarah said with a smile. The whites of Vivian's eyes were tinted pink, but her makeup had escaped unscathed. "Casey's ready, whenever you are."

Vivian rose from her chair, determined as she strode out the door. "I'm on my way. He will rue the day he ever thought he could take advantage of me," she hissed. Sarah followed her out, lingering in Vivian's office doorway as the younger woman strode towards the conference room.

Sarah's gaze followed her down the hallway, seeing that she stopped at the water cooler, where Carter was filling his water bottle. She internally cheered as he completed the entire motion without fumbling the bottle or spilling it all over himself or her, as he so frequently could do when she was close to him. Sarah didn't know what they were talking about, but she could see his face as he stood there, his eyes warm and his features softened. Vivian laughed, out loud, the half of her face Sarah could see beaming despite her evidence of recent crying. Casually, she reached out and touched his arm as the laughter subsided. How could she not see that? Sarah thought, watching the emotion that radiated from his eyes when he looked at her. The look turned wistful, even doleful, as she walked away.

He got closer to Sarah, smiling shyly. "Is she ok?" he asked her.

"Did you ask her that?" Sarah prodded.

He reddened. "I did, but you know, I think she thought it was just a generality. I meant it."

"I know you did," Sarah said softly, cryptically. "Next time, make sure she knows you do," Sarah said nonchalantly, suggestively. She watched him turn five shades of red darker, before he looked away. Chuck had enough to worry about now, Sarah thought, without having to coax Carter to stop being afraid to show Vivian how he felt. It looked like it was up to her. She was worried too, but it made her feel better to try and fix at least something that she thought she could.

"Sarah," he sighed, closing his eyes and shaking his head. "You don't understand," he murmured.

"That's where you're wrong. I do understand. Completely. Chuck is my husband, Carter," she said, as if that made all the sense in the world.

"Chuck is so much better with people than I am. He's charming and he always knows exactly the right thing to say. I come apart and either break things or body parts every time a beautiful woman looks at me the wrong way," he muttered, looking around as he spoke to make sure they were alone.

A soft smile on her face, Sarah replied, "All of them? Or just one in particular?"

"Oh God," he groaned and started to walk away from her. She grabbed his bicep and stopped him. "Am I that obvious? Like a lovesick teenager or something?" he bemoaned.

She laughed, trying to put him at ease. "With Chuck and I, I think probably everyone we knew understood how we felt about each other but us, for a really long time." She lifted her eyebrows, tilting her head and waiting for him to acknowledge her words. "We all see it. And it's ok, Carter. Really."

"Everyone but her, right?" he said so softly she almost didn't hear him. "She was with that other guy, until, what, yesterday? I can't–"

"It wasn't how it looked. So, don't, you know, worry about that. Ok?" she asked him. He stood, blinking, pondering her words. "I know it's just how you are. Super smart and very introverted. But sometimes, introverts come across as aloof. Detached. Try really hard not to come across that way. If you want my expert advice."

He smiled, a dashing and handsome smile, she had always thought. Being around Vivian made him seem sometimes almost a parody of himself. But deep down, Chuck had been much more goof-ball-ish overall when she had first met him than Carter ever was. He was more mysterious, more impenetrable somehow. But he was kind, and caring. She knew as well, he sold himself just as short as Chuck had when he was younger, for an entirely different reason.

"Is that really the only advice I need?" he scoffed.

"Chuck would tell you, Carter. Just don't freak out, and you'll be fine."