A/N: I know, I know, it's been like three months or something. I seriously don't know how long it's been, it's been awhile. I struggled with the inspiration to write this chapter, I just couldn't get it to be as... awesome? passionate? heartbreaking? heartwarming? as I truly wanted it to be. I hope you enjoy it. And, oh yeah, uh... the timeline is a little interesting. Can you figure it all out?
P.S.: i'm considering giving up my quotation mark policy? Do you have an opinion?
Disclaimer: Chuck belongs to NBC, not me.
Yeah we drive through the farmland
Now, how does this story end?
This is one of those with happy endings. Hugs and tears (but the good kind) and kisses and beards. It rhymes. This is one of those where you walk away and forget about what happened. Don't think about it twice, everything was alright. This is one of those where the ending doesn't matter, it's been coming for a long time. This is one of those where that boring middle part is what matters most. Blink and you'll miss it.
She walks through the front door, the burden gone. She sees her two children, and tears come quickly to her eyes. They cry out, in joy, at her sight. Mommy's home. They wrap their small arms around her knees, and she bends down to give them the hug she's wanted since she left. A few tears escape as she holds them in her arms, safely. She wipes her eyes on her sleeve.
Her husband stands beyond her children, and he's happy to see her too. She can see the pain in his eyes, pain from missing her, pain from the knowledge of what she went through. He slowly approaches her, and when she's done hugging her girls, he kisses her. It's slow, it's soft. It's sad, but not because he's upset, but because he's missed her for so long. Because of what her absence had put them through. All of them.
Are you... are you really here?
I'm here. And I'm never leaving you again.
The End.
Once upon a time there was a beautiful CIA agent. Her name was Sarah Walker. She married Charles Bartowski, she loved him with all her heart. She went on a mission, and they told Chuck that she wasn't coming back. And then she did, only to leave soon after.
Once upon a time, Chuck and Sarah Bartowski had two little girls, perfect little girls. Sarah and Chuck didn't know it was possible to love another human being more than they loved each other, but when their children were born, they decided that they most definitely did.
Once upon a time, Sarah Bartowski had to leave Chuck to kill a man. And all Chuck could do was hope that she would come back. So he sent reinforcements.
Casey used some fairly high-tech satellites to get a fix on Walker's car, traveling through Nebraska at warp speed. He doesn't blame her, Nebraska is boring. He's almost an hour behind her, and gaining. Which means he's practically breaking the land speed record. In a Crown Vic, of course. He plans on catching her when she crosses into Illinois. He isn't sure what will happen after that, but he's pretty certain that it's going to get them both killed.
If Bartowski's intel is right, then he and Walker are heading into a death trap. Burke could track Walker as easily, if not easier, as he could, which meant that Burke was going to have time to prepare a small army to welcome them.
Unless Walker had a plan to get Burke alone, they were all screwed.
At first the image on the screen only displayed the gun, smoking. There was little noise, other than the thwip of the silencer and the thunk of the impact. The scene had played out in slow motion - the gun moving up and down as the shooter took a breath, the bright flash of the gun as the bullet ricocheted toward the target, the pan of the camera as it moved toward the body.
She didn't react at first, wanting to believe it was fake, that Burke had lied. That her family was still safe. But as the camera revealed the small body, slumped over in the chair, she screamed. Horrified gasps of air, tears falling from her cheeks.
What have you done!
He rattles on, justifying himself. He doesn't turn the small tv off. The image doesn't fade. Just a small body with a little black hole, red red blood flowing onto the off-putting white floor.
What have you done, my girl, my little girl, you fucking monster
She pulls at the ropes that have her fastened to the chair, but that only irritates the long cuts on her wrists from her previous attempts. She's screaming no, she's begging God, she's weeping loudly.
Casey sits behind her, unable to see that tape that Burke had played. Unable to see Walker, unable to kill Burke.
Burke leaves the room, the tv stays on. It's the only thing she can see in the room. She keeps pulling herself toward it, to do what she doesn't know, but the ropes keeps pulling her back. Blood flows from her wrists and ankles, tears trickle down her face. Her heart is breaking.
Casey...
Casey, please, please get out of here. You... you can... use the chair next time that bastard comes in. I saw... I saw a knife on his belt... you can get out of here. Find... find Chuck, help him, please Casey.
He knows what she's talking about. He could easily stand and hop over to Burke, using Walker's chair, tied to his, to knock the man out. Walker would function as his body armor. Casey would be the only one to walk away.
No. We're both getting out of here. You still have a family Sarah, don't give up on them.
She takes a deep breath, pulling it all back in. Sucking in the pain, the hurt. She exhales. He can practically hear her unspoken rebuttal:
Not for much longer.
Eventually Chuck and the girls return home. They stayed at Casey's for the first few days, Chuck hoping that the mission would be over with quickly. But it wasn't, and the girls were starting to ask questions. His answer was no answer at all. His solution was to remove the source of their questioning.
And everything seemed to return to normal. The girls didn't seem to notice that Daddy looked out the window more than usual, and they didn't think it was odd when he installed a surveillance system around the house. They didn't ask questions when Emily found a large knife in his bedside table, and they didn't seem to mind the new dead-bolt on the front door.
Chuck knew that Sarah was going to take care of everything, that she would come home and the CIA would never bother his family again, but there was still that feeling. That 'what if.' What if he was crazy, what if Sarah was still dead, and he'd imagined the whole encounter? What if Sarah didn't... what if AFRO came after his family, using him as a weapon against his wife?
She threw up into the toilet inside some seedy hotel in who knows where at some ungodly hour in the morning. Her retching woke Casey up, and he held her hair up while she finished.
Are you sure you're okay Walker? We don't have to go after Burke right away, we just escaped.
I can't escape unless he's dead Casey. We have to finish this.
We can't finish this if you're this sick.
Don't worry about me.
She ended the conversation by placing a cheap toothbrush inside her mouth. He returned to bed, but not before completing a quick security scan. They'd been after Burke for almost a month now, but that didn't mean that security should be lax. Casey and Sarah had learned their lesson after being taken inside a CIA office building, right in front of many fellow agents.
Sarah returned to her bed and turned on the cheap television. After struggling to receive a signal, the broadcast showed a press conference. Burke was on the screen answering questions. The conference was located in Colorado, where the CIA had just shut down a large branch of some terrorist group. Burke was in Colorado.
Casey...
Never unpacked, you ready?
Let's go.
Even though she'd been asleep at the time, the transition from farmland to city was obvious, simply in the way the air felt. Heavier. The stars gave way to street lamps and the cool country air transformed to smog. Every breath was a little deeper, every thought a little clearer. She was getting close. It was time to forget failure, to forget the possibilities. It was time to remember who she was, and what she could do to anyone who threatened that.
When she got off the train, she was shocked to see John Casey waiting for her.
What are you doing here?
You know, it would have been faster to drive the whole way, instead of ditching the car in Chicago.
I thought I was being tailed... I'm guessing that was you.
He grunts. She realizes Chuck must have told Casey that she was back, and on the hunt for the CIA director. She smiles at her old partner. He picks up her bag and heads off in the direction of the Vic.
Come on, I already have a hotel room. Burke is out of office until tomorrow, you're just in time.
I don't know what I'd do without you Casey.
He smirks at her, because he knows she'd probably be just fine.
They didn't have much of a plan. Sarah sauntered into the CIA office building, nodding to a secretary she'd met once. Casey followed closely behind her. As agents, they were well respected. Sarah more so than Casey, being that he was only NSA. They found their way to Burke's office. They were going to kill him, and then run like hell to get out alive.
Except they didn't get that far. Sarah could see Burke watching, smirking, as she approached his office. She only had eyes for him. Agents swarmed in from everywhere. Casey maybe took out one or two before he was subdued. Sarah went almost quietly. They pressed her up against the glass of Burke's office before she could react, so she ignored them. Knowing it was already to late. She pressed her forehead to the glass and met Burke eye to eye, and as she was pulled away, she made Burke a promise through the barrier between them.
I'm going to kill you.
With Walker, and Casey as an added bonus, in custody, Burke found that he could finally relax. He knows, in the back of his mind, that he should have just killed them right off. He needed her to stay silent about AFRO, and killing her would be the best way to do it... but he kind of wants to put her through hell just for the fun of it. Teach the bitch to mind her place.
He phone vibrates, and he reads the message.
Target has moved again, won't have hostages by deadline. X
Dammit!
He slams his desk with his palms, causing the office workers around him to reach for their guns. He ignores them. These CIA pricks wouldn't be able to stop him if he decided to rampage anyway. Without hostages, torturing Walker won't be as much fun... unless... he grabs his phone.
Then find a fucking double. Idiot.
For reasons Casey doesn't know, a guard comes into the room. Unarmed. He prepares his growly face, but the guard only bends down to speak to Walker. He whispers in her ear, and Casey hopes the bastard knows that making threats will only get him killed. Eventually.
Except Walker nods, and mumbles thank you. She's still crying softly from whatever she witnessed on the tape. Casey feels the ropes on his wrists being cut, and soon enough his hands are free. Before he can even move, Walker speaks.
Don't, Casey. Let's just get out of here.
Chuck's paranoia paid off. He noticed the van that began to drive by everyday. Black, no windows. He began to worry when it parked outside the home for hours at a time. So he made the girls pack their suitcases, time to take a vacation. He promised everything and anything. Disneyland? Sure, why not. The Beach? Pack your bathing suit. Middle of nowhere Mississippi? Let's go. It took half an hour. He waited for the van to leave, buckled the girls in the car, and drove until his eyes refused to stay open.
They stayed at a motel, he paid in cash. After crashing for twenty minutes (he awoke to find the girls watching cartoons... while jumping on him) he sat in a chair by the window, carefully studying every car that passed by for the rest of the night.
On the quick drive to Colorado, the stopped at almost every gas station they saw, Sarah insisted.
Walker, this is the sixth time, I don't think it will be any different.
It's Bartowski, Casey. I'm a married woman.
Speaking of, when's the last time you and your husband... saw... each other?
The night I came back.
Well... as scarring as that image is, the timing sounds about right.
Shut up Casey.
Sarah shook the small stick in her hand before throwing it in the trash. Casey gave an amused grunt.
I am not pregnant.
Well, Bartowski, just because you say it doesn't mean it's true.
The ride to the seventh floor is silent, save for the soft elevator music playing.
Casey thought of home. Or rather, what it had become in his absence. For all he knew, everything he cared about in Burbank was gone. For all he knew, everything he cared about (although he'd never admit it) was in this elevator right now.
Sarah thought of her family. Or lack there of it. She thought of the lonely nights and long days ahead. She thought of what it would feel like to kill the man that had put a bullet through her daughter.
The doors opened.
The floor seems deserted, the distant sound of a keyboard says it isn't so. The lights are dim, and they make no move to alter it. Casey and Sarah walk boldly through the office, guns at the ready, daring anyone to stop them now.
A wave of nausea passes over Sarah, but she fights it down. No time for that. She knows now that it isn't the nerves. She's pregnant. Pregnant with Chuck's child, a child that may never see it's father. A child that may not even live to the end of this night.
With a violent shake of her head, the thoughts vanish to some place far far away; deep in her heart. The building here, in Colorado, is identical to the one in D.C.. The CIA isn't one for creativity. She continues the familiar walk to Burke's office, thinking of the last time she made the trip. Pressed up against the glass by the company that had betrayed her, making the silent vow to return.
Burke doesn't notice them until it's too late, he reaches for his desk drawer when they burst in, but a simple glare from Casey stops his hand. Sarah watches his eyes as he realizes his situation. As he realizes that this. is. it. No more running, no more hiding. He's lost.
She watches the panic, he tries to think of something, something that will get him out of this:
Agent Walker, Sarah, look, you know I didn't want you by yourself for all those months, it wasn't my fault... it was AFRO's!
She presses the safety. The familiar click silences his protest.
The thing is, Burke, you are AFRO. And you killed my daughter.
She almost wishes that she hadn't screwed on the silencer. Such a defining moment in her life should go with a bang. Casey stuffs his gun into his jeans and grunts. Sarah doesn't bother taking the time to decipher it. She's too busy with her own thoughts: That was it. What she'd wanted for so long now, but the moment feels empty. She knows that her own personal threat is gone, but so is her family. For all she knows, Chuck is... Chuck is gone. They just ran out of time to show her that tape. Her hand travels unconsciously to her stomach. A grotesque gurgle from the floor interrupts her thoughts.
Please... please... I didn't...
Sarah walks around the desk, Casey swiftly pulls out his gun. She nudges Burke, who appears to still be breathing, with her toe.
I didn't kill... her... we... couldn't find... couldn't find... please. Help...
He started to choke on the blood rising in his throat, he coughed and Sarah felt the warm spray of blood on her face.
Issnot... serious... please... your daughter... is... still alive. Please...
She stared at the body in front of her in disgust. In loathing. In absolute complete revulsion. With another unsatisfactory thwip, his begging stopped.
Well, Walker, let's get you home.
She doesn't move from her position; standing over Burke's useless body. Casey can see her eyes shut slowly, he can see her take a deep breath. He sees her shoulders straighten out, he watches her tenderly rest her hand against her flat, for now, abdomen. He catches a glimpse of a smile he never thought he'd see again. She speaks, with her eyes still closed and her hand resting on her stomach, clearly:
It's Bartowski.
The leave the building in silence, making their way back for the happy ending.