Part 2: Archnemesis
(Wednesday, 11pm)
Sarah had been coming and going out of conscious all day, and all Ellie kept saying was it was good she was moving. Chuck couldn't help but think he'd be more prepared if she died than if she lived and was forever debilitated. He'd never seen someone through a long recovery process and couldn't fathom the toll it might take on his life - especially if she were whipped away to some other government facility. Casey and the new guy had gone out to capture Hamisi Zer and they didn't need him for that job, but what about future missions? How would this Intersect thing play out with Ellie suspecting something every time Chuck ran out of the house? Now she would worry. Of course, the logical step would be to integrate Ellie into the missions so they could be a spy family ... or maybe something less deadly.
Sarah's final words as Casey herded him out of the hospital room were heartening. "I'll be back on my feet and protecting you again in no time." He'd said it earlier to calm her, but when she'd echoed the sentiment, it sounded like she actually believed it. She'd always been a good encourager, but he worried she was in denial. The weird thing was that when she threatened Casey, the big guy had flinched and redirected Chuck to the back door.
"Change of plan," he said.
Chuck didn't question and he looked hesitantly at Sarah as he passed the room again. Given a choice, Chuck would stay the whole night with Sarah, but choice was not his luxury anymore. Casey steered him away from the fifth floor reception desk, directed him through a hall adjacent to the burn ward, and kept going. It was long passed standard visiting hours so the hallways were sparsely populated with nurses, janitors, and other stubborn family members.
"Where are we going?"
"Out the back door," Casey said tersely.
"That much I can see. Why are we going out the back door?"
"Front door is blocked."
Chuck immediately tensed as Casey brought up his watch to radio Dasik. He nearly ran into an Asian man – or maybe the wall. The world went fuzzy the way it sometimes did before a flash, but Chuck could still feel his feet falling and Casey's hand on his elbow jerking him forward. His eyes were stinging, and Chuck figured he must be tired and have bumped one of those randomly placed pillars in the hall, because there was no flood of information. Except now the image of the Asian man was seared to his mind.
"Casey, what does he want?"
"Moon?" Casey asked, seeming annoyed. He pushed open the door to the stair well and directed Chuck down the steps faster than seemed reasonable. "He wants to contain you. You're a liability, Bartowski."
Chuck shook his head to clear it, letting Casey's words mix with Sarah's threat and the swirling fuzz from hitting the wall. "Why are we running away from Dasik? Is this about what Sarah said? You're not extracting me!"
"Not today. Extraction requires a clear path. Any diversion means we fall back to the safe zone and that means you get to sleep in your own bed."
"You're not making any sense."
"I'd explain, but you're a terrible liar. If Moon asks, you had a flash."
"Casey, I did have a flash. He was in the hallway."
Casey grabbed Chuck's shoulder in a grip so firm that Chuck felt his feet leave the ground. He stumbled on the steps as Casey spun him around.
"Who? Who did you see?" Casey demanded.
Chuck stammered and pressed the heel of his hand to his eyes, trying to squeeze the image from the Intersect again. "I - what - he -"
"Casey! What is this?" Dasik hissed as he entered the stairwell from the bottom and climbed up to meet them.
"Unsub on floor five," Casey explained, then turned to Chuck. "Kid?"
"He - wh - I can't -"
"I don't need DaVinci," Casey carped, leaning in aggressively. "What did he look like?"
"Brown skin, Asian, cropped hair, evil." Chuck's hand flailed at the approximate height of the Asian man, but it all seemed fuzzy and unreal.
"I'll cover Walker for now. You get him out," Dasik ordered, his hand resting over a concealed weapon. Casey bristled, but he led Chuck outside and they found Casey's black SUV.
"That was the worst fake flash ever," Casey criticized.
Chuck massaged his temples, not even bothering to correct Casey. His brain hurt. "I see his face. It's clear as day, there's just nothing else there."
"You see his face?"
Chuck nodded and sighed heavily. Maybe he was too tired for the Intersect to work. But then, his own exhaustion had never hindered him before. Maybe the signal was degrading due to prolonged storage in a non-standard human brain device. Maybe the Intersect would eventually dissipate from his brain and the government would have no need -
"Get that notepad from the back seat and sketch what you can remember," Casey ordered gruffly.
"I'm not very good with sketches," Chuck warned.
"Then write a text-based code to reconstruct the facial pro-"
Chuck held up his hand to silence Casey as he reached back for the notepad. "You really shouldn't do 'nerd'. It doesn't suit you."
Taking a deep breath, Chuck blinked his eyes and tentatively sketched, making notes as to what the various elements shouldlook like were a better artist conveying the shapes. When they reached their apartment complex, Casey snapped his fingers and took the notepad.
"This looks like Mr. Potato Head," he groused.
Chuck chuckled at the comparison, all the sudden struck with the image of a boy Casey playing with Mr. Potato Head and his bucket of parts. Aside from the disturbing 'bucket of parts' parallel, it was an uplifting image.
"He did bear striking resemblance."
"You want me to fax this to Washington?" Casey challenged patronizingly.
"There are text-based descriptors," Chuck pointed out. "See I drew circles, but I wrote walnut for the eyes. They were crinkly."
Casey looked away and clenched his fist angrily. "This is exactly the kind of thing that will get you shipped to a high security facility with padded walls."
"Well until the memory scan converter is perfected, you have to rely on my art skills," Chuck returned with as much defiance as he could muster. He wondered if Casey really cared about potential extraction or if he simply feared Sarah that much. Chuck inhaled softly as guilt swirled in. They'd just left Sarah there with Mr. Potato Head and Agent Moon.
"Do you think Sarah's okay?"
"Is Potato Head affiliated with Zer?"
Chuck shrugged. Despite his best efforts, there was nothing more to be known about Potato Head from this particular flash. Casey's face softened somewhat and he picked up the notepad again and walked to the fountain. It was a nice night for sitting outside.
"We'll work on the sketch, fax it to D.C. tonight, and see if there are any hits by the morning briefing," Casey said with resignation. "We don't want Moon to think you faked a flash to get rid of him."
"I didn't fake a flash," Chuck insisted.
Casey didn't say anything. He just sat by the fountain, penciling corrections to the sketch using Chuck's notes. His walnut eyes weren't quite right, so Chuck tried running through different nuts and legumes until they found something that worked. Casey wasn't a sketch artist by any stretch of the imagination, but he was better than Chuck.
-----
(Thursday, 7am)
Aside from working on the sketch, Casey had offered no other explanation for dragging Chuck from the hospital last night. Casey made some grumbling statements about Chuck needing to rest and be ready for work in the morning, but Chuck suspected that Casey didn't want to leave him alone in a place where he and Ellie might share secrets. Chuck desperately wanted to tell Ellie something,so Casey was probably wise to keep them apart and he knew Ellie wasn't leaving the hospital any time soon. Morgan had come over last night as was their traditional gaming schedule, but he hadn't forced anything because he knew Chuck was too distracted to make the game any fun. Chuck was glad for the company, though.
The morning was fueled by coffee and routine and Chuck shuffled his way to Casey's apartment. As soon as he walked inside, his senses came alive with the intensity of this alternate life. Chuck leaned against the wall and carefully extracted his everything bagel with sun-dried tomato cream cheese from the paper towel he'd wrapped it in and he munched while Casey puttered about doing other things. Chuck could see Ellie's picture on the computer screen and guessed that Casey was looking into his sister's background and clearance.
"Can't we please bring Ellie into the loop?" Chuck asked and Casey's face tightened. "I think her suspecting and second-guessing is far worse than her knowing what's going on. She'll suspect everything I do now."
"Eat over the sink; you're making a mess."
Chuck sighed disappointedly, knowing he'd been dismissed, but he went to the kitchen anyway, because he felt less guilty letting the poppy seeds fall into the sink. He recognized the motions of Casey setting up the secure connection to Washington and it made Chuck uneasy. It was the first time he had to face the General and Director without Sarah there to advocate for him. He hadn't spoken much to Dasik, but he didn't like what he did know. Chuck hadn't liked Casey at first, but he'd managed to find the hidden Sugar Bear underneath and it was only a matter of time before he found the humanity in Dasik - he hoped.
"So is Dasik going to work at the Wienerlicious too?"
Casey was still ignoring Chuck as much as possible. "His official cover is that he's one of the detectives covering the shooting."
"Oh, I have a bad record with fake detectives. The last one got killed by ... well, I suppose you were there."
Chuck had been trying for a joke, but seeing a man die wasn't funny. Conway wasn't an evil terrorist; he was CIA - one of the good guys. If Sarah hadn't asked him to wait, Conway wouldn't be dead. Chuck would've been on the chopper to nowhere which admittedly would've sucked, but then Sarah would've been assigned elsewhere and wouldn't have been shot by Zer or whoever did it. The bile rose in Chuck's throat, but he quickly swallowed the plague of might-have-beens.
"It's a shame though about Dasik and the Wienerlicious," Chuck said lightly. "I really liked the free hot dogs and I think that red vest would bring out his -"
"You best keep that opinion to yourself," Casey warned. A knock sounded at the door and Casey moved to answer. Chuck finished up his bagel and followed casually.
"Agent Moon isn't soft and sympathetic like Agent Walker," Casey continued. "He doesn't care that you want to stay here with your friends and he won't tolerate your jokes. He'll keep you living, but he won't coddle you like I do."
"C-coddle?" Chuck laughed incredulously and choked on his coffee. "Casey, may you never have children."
Casey had his gun in hand and checked the peep hole to verify who had come, even though he'd been expecting Dasik. Agent Moon was clean shaven, sharply dressed, and overly critical, especially when he saw Chuck. Instinctively, Chuck smoothed his own shirt and stood straighter.
"What's he doing here?" Dasik asked Casey. Chuck didn't like being treated like an object and spoke for himself.
"It's Thurs-"
"We may get fresh intel," Casey interrupted. "It saves a step if he's present."
"Plus, you know -"
Casey gave Chuck a warning look and he stopped talking and ducked his head. He let Casey stand in the middle as they hovered around the computer screen and camera that connected them to Washington. Chuck concentrated hard on keeping quiet and drinking his coffee. It felt cold and vulnerable standing on the outside of the group. If Casey had gone down and Sarah were standing next to him, Chuck figured he'd be okay, because Sarah had a way of reassuring him. Casey didn't seem to care whether Chuck felt safe or not, so long as he was safe.
"There are no hits off the sketch you sent," General Beckman was saying. "Have there been additional sightings?"
"No, General," Casey answered. "I'd still recommend a permanent guard posted by Agent Walker."
"Agent Moon?"
"I believe Mr. Bartowski may have overreacted," Dasik said and Chuck bristled. "My surveillance of the hospital has revealed no unusual behavior. Given Agent Walker's condition, it would be wise to move her to a secure location. She has a steady string of civilian visitors and considering her medication, that may represent a security risk."
"The civilian connection may be all the more reason to keep her in position," Casey countered. "Extracting her may point someone directly to the Intersect."
"Then we should extract the Intersect as well," Moon added.
"Have you learned any more about Zer?" Casey asked the General, steering the conversation in a not-extracting-Chuck direction.
"Zer is a contract mercenary," General Beckman answered. "He's keeping tight-lipped about who he was working for or whether Agent Walker was the final target."
"He wasn't the only shooter, General," Casey warned.
The General nodded. "Four of the shooters were taken out by snipers with only one fatally, but the others committed suicide before they could be questioned."
"A terrorist organization?" Dasik asked.
"None had priors," Director Graham pointed out. "Only one had record of affiliation with an organization called Allignton, but they've never been violent before."
"Allignton splintered from the Chetallis five years ago," Chuck said quietly as the name triggered a string of images. "Zer -"
"Hamisi Zer led the Chetallis for three years before he became an independent contractor," Dasik finished.
"Could be an old friend called in a favor," Casey said.
"I'll send a current listing of both Chetallis and Allignton members for Mr. Bartowski to review," Director Graham said.
Chuck blinked. He wasn't accustomed to his flashes being interrupted with corroborating intel, but it made sense since Dasik had worked close to that case. Casey was still looking at him with a mixture of expectation and gloating. The others had stopped talking, but information on the Chetallis still assaulted Chuck's mind.
"Chetallis is headed by Jonas Trechton and Ava Sirus. Membership includes Kallis, Jackson, Emolty, Cr - cr - ..." Chuck choked as the images stalled and the evil eyes seared to his mind.
"Him!" Chuck gasped. "It's him! Mr. Potato Head."
Chuck felt like his brain would explode - like the image of Potato Head was blocking any further information from the Intersect and the walls of the dam were ready to burst. He covered his mouth to keep from vomiting the information and dropped to one knee. Casey grabbed his elbow, but only to slow his fall.
"What is it, Bartowski?" Casey asked. "What's his name?"
"He's ... his face is there on the side, but he's ..."
Chuck had nothing and Casey gave up asking.
"I suppose we could still use that list, General," he said dryly.
Chuck barely heard the rest of the conversation because his insides were quivering from the strange flash. He wondered briefly if his own computer felt so pained when he messed with the files, and he started empathizing with artificial intelligence. Chuck sat on the floor so he wouldn't have to concentrate on standing. He backed up through the Chetallis intel and repeated the words with the hope that he'd eventually get over the roadblock and spill the rest. The words "file corrupted" floated ironically through his mind.
He jumped when someone flicked water in his face. Casey and Dasik were squatting near him, looking expectantly.
"I've read the reports," Dasik said, "But I take it this is not usual for a 'flash' as you call them."
Chuck looked shamefully at his knees, murmuring, "Trechton, Sirus, Kallis, Jackson, Emolty, Cr - cr -"
"Drop it, Bartowski," Casey said. "We'll have a list inside the hour."
"Let's go to the hospital," Chuck said.
Dasik looked at Casey accusingly. "This is exactly what I was talking about. He should not be giving you orders."
"That was a suggestion, not an order," Casey said to Dasik. His skin was so tight with repressed anger that Chuck could see his veins throbbing. "And we're going to work first. In fact, we're going now."
"The store is only two miles away," Dasik pointed out. "Your shift doesn't start for half an hour."
"L.A. Traffic."
"Major Casey, may I speak with you," Dasik whispered quietly. Casey pulled Chuck to his feet and propped him against a wall for support, and then he and Dasik walked to the other room while Chuck concentrated hard on not seeing Potato Head. The fire, pressure, and images subsided and the world resolved to its normal level of sight and sound. Chuck walked slowly, testing his feet to make sure they responded, and he went to the edge of the living room to eavesdrop.
"Major, I realize the three of you have developed a rapport, but you have continually discounted my contribution to this operation in favor of the civilian who is clearly unstable."
"I have been on this case longer than you," Casey warned. "I know what I'm doing."
"Zer has not been affiliated with the Chetallis for years. There are no friends calling in favors. Bartowski is clearly using this as a distraction to maintain the status quo."
The words hissed back and forth between the two men and Chuck noticed Casey's fists clenching at every hint that he'd gone soft, disobeyed orders, or put his own interests ahead of his country's. Chuck's own fists were clenching as Dasik continually challenged his integrity. Casey grabbed Dasik's collar and seethed, issuing threats without words, then pushed the other man away and motioned for Chuck to follow him. They were both stewing as Dasik followed their car to the BuyMore. As soon as they parked, Casey launched out of the car into the sanctuary of the store, but Chuck hung back, watching Dasik as he scoped the lot. Gathering the remnants of his composure and grace, he crossed the lot to Dasik's vehicle.
"Are you sticking around?" Chuck asked uncertainly. "You know, surveying the area."
"Not today," Dasik answered. "Major Casey will contact me if something comes up, and there is an entire strike team on alert ready to come here. I have to speak with Agent Walker."
"Does she have a strike team on alert too? Is someone -"
"She is not your concern. You go in there, savor your mediocre existence, and let me do my job."
Chuck nodded. His first attempt at finding humanity in Dasik Moon was met with Epic Fail.
"Bartowski," Dasik called and Chuck turned hopefully. The glower on Dasik's face was not encouraging.
"Yeah?"
"If you ever fake a flash and send me on a wild goose chase again, I will -"
Chuck didn't even wait for the accusation to finish. His blood boiled and before he could stop himself, he punched Dasik in the nose. His first thought was that he'd been slammed into brick walls with more give than that man's face, and perhaps Dasik was part machine sent from the future to destroy the human race. Dasik was not injured, but had been stunned into silence.
"People's lives are at stake," Chuck said firmly, even though his insides were quaking. "I don't fake flashes."
With that, he turned on his heels and walked determinedly through the front door of the BuyMore. Casey was trying to look disapproving, but he was laughing too hard.
-----
(Thursday, 9am)
Ellie paced between the window and the door of Sarah's hospital room. She'd given up biting her nails long ago, but never got out of the habit of bringing her fingers to her lips and mimicking the motion. She'd grabbed a few naps over the course of the night and Devon had brought her breakfast at near the crack of dawn. She'd told him the only information she was allowed to - Sarah was caught in the crossfire of a gun fight. Ellie didn't go to mentioning the fax she'd received from Washington with the classified medical documents showing the woman was a government agent and had been through hell and worse in less than a decade. Devon read the anxiety off Ellie's face, but couldn't know the depth of that emotional gut twist. Chuck had carried Sarah in. He was involved somehow, but Ellie was not free to ask how, nor did she want to know the details, for fear it would only freak her out more.
Pressing her eyes shut, she willed herself not to see his face again white as ash and smeared with blood. When her brother had run into the hospital, she'd been so focused on him that she hadn't even noticed Sarah lying there on the gurney.
"It's not my blood," he said urgently. "It's Sarah! Help Sarah!"
Ellie's mind whirred at the sight. Her doctor instincts kicked in, but she didn't have the luxury of helping a friend when she was on a classified assignment waiting for an incoming agent.
"I can't, Chuck, I'm –"
"Littlebird."
"What did you say?"
"Littlebird. Ellie, it's her. Help Sarah."
Chuck had secrets and Ellie wanted to kill him for it. As grateful as she'd been to be freed to help Sarah, she'd been angry to be blindsided by her brother. She needed a break, but didn't dare leave the hospital since Sarah had murmured incoherently about the shooter the night before. The CIA had finally sent an agent to handle things, but rather than being on guard, he was sitting in the corner of the room waiting to question Sarah. The man was shorter than Devon or Chuck, but made of solid steel in a Bruce Willis-style mold. He wasn't nearly so charming, since he refused to smile, and he'd given Devon a disapproving glower when he'd stopped by.
A soft groan and a rustle of the bed sheets brought Ellie's attention back to the present. Despite her numerous injuries, Sarah had rolled onto her left side again. Ellie suspected it had to do with keeping the pressure off the injuries on her back, but considering the injuries to her left side, she couldn't see how the position was more comfortable.
"On your side again," Ellie commented. "Does that mean you're awake?"
"I'm thirsty," Sarah murmured. Sarah coughed and pounded her palm against the bed. Ellie wasn't sure if it was to distract herself from the pain or keep herself from falling on her stomach. She placed a hand on Sarah's shoulder to stabilize her and started a cursory exam.
"Can I -"
"Sit still or I'll strap you down," Ellie interrupted. Sarah opened her eyes and glared up at Ellie.
"Don't threaten me," Sarah growled. It was a mixture of a threat and a plea and it tore Ellie's heart to hear.
"Sarah, this is Agent Dasik Moon. He's going to figure out the cover and transition and agenty-CIA stuff."
"Agent Moon," Sarah greeted cordially, sounding strong despite her condition. "Have you been briefed on... my current assignment?"
Ellie shuddered to hear such words from the mouth of someone she'd once considered the girl next door. She always thought Sarah was too sharp to work at the Wienerlicious, but Chuck liked her too much to criticize.
"Dr. Bartowski, will you excuse us?" Agent Moon said coolly.
"Not. Right. Now," Ellie murmured as she worked. She made a face as the blood pressure monitor told her things it shouldn't and she checked the IV line to see if the drugs were being administered properly. Adjusting the dosage, she looked down at Sarah thoughtfully. "This is knocking you out a little too much."
Sarah wobbled again and tipped forward and Ellie caught her shoulder and forced her to lie on her back. The position made Sarah wheeze.
"Ellie," she gasped, calling out as if to a friend, not a doctor.
"Try to breathe normally," Ellie instructed as she adjusted the level of the bed. Drainage, pressure... Ellie was accustomed to working with specialists in cases this complex.
"Voila!" Ellie smiled triumphantly as Sarah's breathing evened out and she rested partially upright. "Now you're in a better position to drink."
It was a small and exhausted smile on Sarah's lips, but at least it was a smile. Ellie filled a cup with water from the tap and held it to Sarah's lips. Sarah splayed the fingers of her right hand, but made no effort to take hold of the cup. In fact, aside from rolling on her side every time she woke up and using the right arm to brace herself, Sarah rarely engaged any of her limbs. Cocking her head, Ellie examined Sarah's face, but with the black eye it was difficult to gauge whether the eyelids were drooping unevenly. She needed to consult with a specialist on this case and she didn't have time to wait for government approval.
"Will this take long?" Agent Moon asked, clearly exasperated at being kept waiting.
"Half an hour for the drugs to metabolize a little more. She'll be more coherent then."
"I'm fine," Sarah insisted, though Ellie was sure she was numb from the hair down.
Agent Moon sighed loudly. "I have other business to attend to this morning. Have her ready to speak at 11:30."
Ellie didn't bother watching him go. She was too busy trying to remember her neuroscience classes.
"He's stiff," she commented to Sarah, because it felt weird to be clinical.
"It's his job."
"Well I don't like him. He scares me and I don't trust him."
"He has our best interests at heart."
"If he has a heart."
"Ellie!" Sarah cried and Ellie laughed.
"I never liked you very much either," Ellie confessed. "I would've doubted you a lot more if Chuck hadn't backed you up in every lie."
Sarah made a face and then stared forward blankly. "My eyelashes feel funny."
"But no matter how crazy things seemed, I always sensed that you had Chuck's best interest at heart."
Ellie reclined the bed again and as soon as it was flat, Sarah rolled onto her side, as if compelled by some force of nature. Ellie considered the CIA agent both gently and critically. She leaned her face close to Sarah's and dropped her voice to a whisper.
"And since I trust that instinct, I'm going to tell you what I suspect, so you can protect my brother when you talk to Agent Moon this afternoon."
"Ellie," Sarah warned, but Ellie ignored her.
"I know you work for the CIA, but I don't know what your assignment is. I assume it has something to do with my brother seeing as you hang out so much."
"Chuck is a civilian."
Ellie furrowed her brow in frustration. "He seemed awfully confident when he came in with you. He was the one with the code."
Sarah didn't answer, but Ellie didn't notice. All she saw was her brother soaked in Sarah's blood and she felt herself shaking again.
"And why was he with you?" Ellie asked. "Does he follow you around on your assignments?"
"I swear to you, Ellie, your brother is a civilian."
"Civilian is government speak for 'we use him without training him'. No wonder he's been so ...ugh!" Ellie stepped away from the bed and walked in a frustrated circle. "They should at least put him through basic self-defense -"
"Ellie."
"It could've been him shot," Ellie cried.
Sarah said nothing.
Ellie pressed her eyes shut and reprimanded herself for losing her temper. "Is he under protection or general contract?"
"The less you know the better."
Ellie wiped the weariness from her face and chastised herself again. Sarah was injured, weak, and drugged and still she had the strength to maintain protocol. That was the strength Ellie lacked and if Chuck was a civilian, he lacked it too.
"Sarah ... sorry. Sorry. It's - he's my brother, you know. I saw him come in and he was covered in blood ..."
"I'm sorry," Sarah said. "I told them to get out. He doesn't listen sometimes."
Them? Ellie couldn't help but wonder who else was out there, saving the world with her brother - or at the very least saving her brother.
"He just thinks with his heart, you know."
-----
(Thursday, 7pm)
Visitors were tiresome, but Sarah found them a welcome distraction from the pain and the hazy fog of the medicines. After Agent Moon's interrogation, she'd gotten Ellie to reduce the medication even more because she preferred the pain to the total loss of self she felt when drugged. She'd succumbed to drugs on too many levels - addiction, resistance training, torture. She felt alone.
It surprised her when Scooter walked in, and were it not for the hair, she wouldn't have recognized him without that ridiculous Wienerlicious uniform. His temple was purple and he had a long gash on his forehead held shut with $700 hospital-grade band-aids. He wore a brown button down shirt with a huge collar and he leaned awkwardly against the wall, unsure of what to say or where to look. Sarah could only guess at how horrific she looked herself, because she hadn't dared lift her head off the pillow in awhile.
"I told you not to mess with him," Sarah said, trying to break the ice with a light-hearted blame game.
"And I told you to go to the freezer," he countered. He tried to smile and failed, so he ended up looking uncertainly at his shoes. "The police say they caught the guy, but I think something else is going on because no one is talking about testifying in court or anything. Have they even talked to you?"
"They have me on the happy drugs," she lied, trying not to show how much it hurt just to breathe. "I'll be lucky if I remember you coming to talk to me."
"That's why I brought the card," he said dryly and they both shared a mirthless chuckle. He picked at his fingernails, occasionally sneaking glances in her direction.
"I was shot once," he confessed. He shifted on his feet and looked more uncertain as he continued. "I saw it coming, though. I could see it in his eyes."
He motioned at his eyes and paused. Then his jaw set and he looked guiltily at Sarah. "This time ... I knew this guy was seedy -"
"Scooter, this isn't your fault," Sarah said firmly.
Scooter ran his hands through his hair and tried very hard to look convinced. He made a rye joke to cover his guilt and they spoke intermittently about bad elevator music and gourmet corn dogs. Sarah was grateful when Chuck and Casey arrived. Chuck looked perturbed and immediately started pacing the room, occasionally shaking out his wrists. The knuckles on his right hand were bruised. Casey greeted Scooter pleasantly and chummed up to him the way he did when he was seeking information from a target. Scooter, however, was in no mood to chit-chat and he bowed out graciously.
"I'll leave you to your friends."
"See you at work on Monday!" Sarah called after him. He smiled genuinely and shook his head as he left, which was more than Sarah had hoped for.
"Where's ... what's-his-name?" she asked Casey and Chuck. They'd both perched on chairs in the room and neither seemed keen on chatter.
"Dasik," Casey supplied, then snickered. "Chucky-here gave him a bloody nose."
"What? Why?"
"He -"
"Dasik," Chuck interrupted, holding up a finger as if that could forestall judgment. "Is a very mean man."
Casey laughed outright at this and Chuck pointed an accusing finger.
"He told me to be assertive!"
"Assertive. Not stupid," Casey said, then turned conspiratorially to Sarah. "Didn't even make a dent, but shocked the hell out of him."
"He's my archnemesis now," Chuck said solemnly.
"Do you know how petty that sounds?" Sarah groaned at the complication, but Chuck rolled his eyes.
"Sarah, in the nerd-world, an archnemesis is a very important person. I've given him more lease to mess with my life than you ever had as girlfriend."
Sarah scrunched her nose, and squirmed uncomfortably as her gunshot wound started throbbing again. "So what else is going on?"
"Sorry, you're not in the loop anymore," Casey said haughtily. "We're just here to protect our cover."
"I'm here because I care," Chuck said and Sarah smiled. She clenched her fist and Chuck recognized the signal - he came to sit next to her bed and hold her hand.
"Is little John alive?" she asked.
"Excuse me?" Casey said.
"My fish."
"You named the fish little John?" Chuck asked, seeming unhappy.
"Carina nearly killed that fish," Sarah explained. "Didn't I show you that picture of Casey all tied -"
"Nightmares. Yes," Chuck interrupted.
"Good times," Casey smiled, reclining against the wall. "I wonder what it says about you that you choose to commemorate me in that way."
"Please, stop with the visuals," Chuck begged. He covered his eyes, then peeked at Sarah.
"Sarah, are you alright? You're writhing," he said. He took her hand again, which only exacerbated the throbbing that started to permeate Sarah's entire body. "Do you need more -"
"No. I don't want more," Sarah said harshly.
"Sarah, you're in pain," Chuck pleaded.
"Chuck, no. I can't go down that road again."
"What road? What?"
Chuck looked panicky and even Casey came closer to the bed. Sarah reeled, but she wasn't sure if it was the present pain or a flashback.
"They pump you so full," she moaned, remembering and dreading that feeling of her strength dissolving. "They don't care. Just want you to keep going."
"Bartowski, take a walk," Casey said gruffly.
"No! I'm not leaving -"
Casey shot Chuck a look, then placed two fingers on Sarah's face. She gasped, but the world resolved almost immediately. Was she crying? Was that why she couldn't breathe?
"Sarah?" Chuck whimpered.
Casey pressed two more fingers, and her breath came.
"John..."
Chuck looked helplessly at Casey and Casey jerked his head toward the door.
"Twenty minutes," he said quietly. As soon as Chuck left, one of Casey's hands moved toward her neck or shoulder - it was difficult to tell. But as soon as the pressure was there, Sarah relaxed down to her elbows. With the next move, the tension drained all the way to her naval. It was a novelty, a blessing, and a terrifyingly powerless position.
"If you wanted me to do this again, you could've just asked," Casey teased her.
"I'm not asking now."
"I know," he said quietly. His touch was so peaceful. "I figure by the time you justify the decision to yourself, you'll be speaking so high only dogs could hear."
"Does that exclude you?" she joked.
He grunted, but kept working.
"You didn't have to bully Chuck out of the room like that."
Casey's lips twitched, the way he had when he didn't like how soft his motives seemed, regardless of whether they were right.
"The kid has enough images floating around in his brain. He doesn't need to see me touch you like this."
Sarah had never thought for a moment about how Casey was touching her. It was so peaceful, though. She spent a minute trying to visualize how it looked, but things became so mellow when he did this and she didn't want to ruin that. Ellie had seemed startled, but Casey hadn't stopped when she walked in. Still, sending Chuck out - Sarah was touched that Casey would protect her dignity like that.
"You tried to sit up again didn't you?" Casey jested. "That's why you're all twisted and aching. Did Agent Moon say something to rile you?"
"I can't see the door."
"Well you're the one that keeps rolling on your side like your body's on a springboard. If the nurses had their way, you'd be flat on your back."
Sarah swallowed hard and shivered. With shaky resolve, she whispered, "I'll be up again in no time."
"Sure you will," Casey chuckled. "Have you seen you? I don't know how much you can tell head to toe, so let's take a little tour, shall we. You got your right arm and that's fine, amazingly enough, until you reach that pinched shoulder, which I suppose is my fault for dragging you out of the crossfire."
He touched her shoulder and she squirmed, but it didn't ache anymore.
"Your left arm is another story," he continued. He placed his hand on hers, and she noticed for the first time how cold her left arm felt.
"I'm not quite sure why you're laying on it, but you have this fracture on the forearm, probably from blocking blows. I told you gauntlets would look hot with that uniform."
"Try not to drool from the thought," she said bravely.
"Your elbow is bruised to the bone and you're lucky it's not shattered. Working down we have these three bruised ribs here from getting kicked but you've had those since Saturday."
She winced as his fingers ghosted over the injury, but it was the first time she'd distinguished the broken ribs over the more generic pain.
"Saturday was ..."
"The Samaltu mission in Thousand Oaks."
"Right," she said softly. She remembered coming away from that with bruised ribs and a broken pair of high-heeled boots.
"Next we come across this gunshot wound, which has left you with a bruisedeverythingno matter what Dr. Bartowski leads you to believe," Casey said cynically. He touched a few different places around the entrance and exit, placing enough pressure for her to feel the pull of the bandage tape on her skin, but it didn't add to the pain.
"There's a chip off the pelvic bone from the bullet. This leg here on top just has a slice from one of your ninja blades but is otherwise fine; and my favorite is this jammed toe here, but that's from a dance injury earlier in the week."
"Dance?" Sarah interrupted. "I kicked you in the shin."
"I've considered kicking you back, but your left leg - I don't know what your line of sight is, but the whole thing is in a cast. It's somewhat overkill for that particular fracture, but the Doc must've known you were fidgety."
Sarah lifted her head and tried to look down her body, but she did not see her cast leg. She squirmed, but could not distinguish her left leg from the pain. As far as she could tell, though, she could wriggle her toes and they didn't hurt at all. But Casey was right - she was essentially immobile, and that thought was a greater weight on her chest than all the pain from the injuries.
"I can't get out of here. Even if I wanted to," she murmured as the reality sank in. "I can't fight."
"You still have the one good arm," Casey joked, picking up her right arm and flapping it a little. She jerked it out of his hand.
"I'm trapped here; there's no way out. If something happened - if someone came -" She was hyperventilating - or at least starting to. Then Casey placed a hand on some pressure point, and breathing became easier.
"You don't think I'd leave my partner stranded, do you?" he said gently.
"I thought you were just here to protect your cover."
Casey smiled, but suppressed it. "That's why they let us come. If I didn't bring Chuck, he would've snuck out of the house, but I couldn't put it that way to the General..."
They both fell silent as she afforded him the dignity of having a heart without being mocked for it.
"Chuck flashed on an Asian man last night. We think he's associated somehow with Zer. He's affiliated with a group called the Chetallis, but we don't have a name yet."
"I thought I was out of the loop."
"He was here and he may be after you."
"Do you have a sketch?"
Casey harrumphed. "You don't want to see it. Moon was here last night, but said there was nothing unusual. Have you seen anyone suspicious hanging about?"
"I can't see the door," Sarah murmured. "A guard -"
"I requested that. I'm not sure what the deal is. So I made you this." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small device that looked like an Ipod shuffle. In fact, it was one that had probably been ripped apart and rewired into something more spy-like.
"Music?"
"Press the middle button twice and it'll page me."
Sarah looked uncertainly at the device, then placed it by her pillow. She flinched at the sound of someone clearing his throat behind her. Casey looked up and raised an eyebrow.
"Bartowski, come over here and let me show you this," Casey said.
Sarah pressed her eyes shut, frustrated at her own helplessness. Casey took her right hand and placed in Chuck's, then showed him the basic s of acupressure. The nausea and fear that she felt for her lost independence were eased by the gentle touch, but Sarah's heart still twisted with the feeling that the rug had so thoroughly been ripped out from under her.
"I'm doing it wrong, aren't I?" Chuck said, misreading the emotion on her face. He paused and looked guiltily from her hand to her eyes.
"No, don't stop," Sarah said weakly. "It helps."
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(Thursday, 10pm)
Chuck hadn't had a proper archnemesis since Bryce, and although he'd forgiven Bryce for the betrayal, his other friends didn't know that. Still since Bryce was officially dead now, he was a poor candidate for archnemesis. Dasik's unwittingly provoked right hook from Chuck occurred in full view of Morgan, Anna, and a sufficient number of others to earn him the title.
The evening waned and Chuck wandered out of the hospital room. Ellie was leaning tiredly against the wall in the same clothes as yesterday, wrapped up in Devon's arms as her fiancé tried to convince her to go home and get a proper night's sleep. Dasik and Casey were nearby, talking socially and Casey was eating pudding that he'd probably stolen from someone's food tray. Chuck rubbed his face and decided he'd join Devon in the plea to get Ellie to leave.
"How are you holding up?" she asked him as he approached. Absently, she picked up his hand and examined his bruised knuckles.
"I'm thinking of leaving soon," Chuck answered. "I can give you a ride home."
Ellie leaned back against Devon and twisted around to look at him.
"I'm on shift tonight, babe," he said. "I should probably get back downstairs."
Devon kissed her cheek, told her once more to go home, then headed back to the elevators. Ellie sighed tiredly and leaned against the wall.
Suddenly, her brow furrowed and she looked down the hall in confusion. Chuck followed her gaze. Morgan rounded the corner toward the desk carrying a large bear and half a dozen balloons.
"Hey, buddy," Chuck greeted. "Sarah's room is down the hall ... but you know that."
"Visiting hours are technically over," Ellie said. "How did you get past the front desk?"
"Oh, I have ways," Morgan said slyly, not even noticing the bristling response he got from Casey and Dasik.
"How did you come in?" Dasik demanded, stepping into the conversation.
Morgan looked uncertainly from Dasik to Chuck. Pointing a finger, he asked Chuck, "Isn't this the nemesis?"
"Archnemesis. Morgan, this is Dasik Moon. Dasik, Morgan."
"Weird," Morgan commented, stepping away from Dasik as he towered threateningly.
"Dasik is one of the detectives investigating the shooting," Chuck explained.
Morgan did a double-take. "You hit a cop?!"
Chuck shook his head in frustration and gave up explaining. "Did you want to put those things in Sarah's room?"
"Yeah," Morgan agreed, shifting his hold on the bear. "I went by, but the nurse was adjusting her medication and I don't like needles."
"Nurse?" Ellie asked, standing straighter.
They all started running toward the room before Morgan got another word in edgewise. A man in coral-green scrubs stood next to Sarah's bed injecting something into the IV. Chuck recognized Potato Head immediately and shouted as much. Potato Head abandoned his task, vaulted over the bed, slid under Chuck's legs and out the door. Dasik and Casey took up pursuit immediately as Ellie ran to Sarah's bedside. Chuck watched helplessly as Sarah started convulsing and Ellie called for a crash cart. His heart pounding, he ran to the hallway and saw Casey leaping sideways to tackle Potato Head as Dasik shouted and attacked from behind.
"Chuck, find Devon!" Ellie hollered at him. Chuck knew Ellie wasn't looking for comfort from her fiancé. In addition to being a Captain of Awesome, Devon was a master at biochem and minor poisons. He'd know what to do.
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Post A.N.: Yes, of course TBC. I got water on it and fed it after midnight and now it's a fic gremlin! We'll see where it goes.