A/N: Hellllloooo i'm back! So my computer crashed and i had to live in the stone age for several days until it was fixed. It's working now...sort of. Sorry! The upside is i've forgotten how angsty i made this story so you never know, it might read lighter than light-hearted. I'll probably find my groove again by next chapter.

A million thanks to aardvark for beta'ing this chapter, steering me in the right direction and helping me find a more suitable ending. You're awesome!

Chapter 15:

Sarah's eyes glazed over as she looked down at the reams of paper on her desk. Every few seconds her eyes darted to the closed office door. Every meaningless discussion in the hallway, every knock on wood or phone ring, even those that weren't hers, was enough for her to perk her ears like a neurotic puppy. Little distractions were all she needed now to lose her focus.

Sarah rubbed her temples and looked back down at the file. Something about a drug cartel. Possibly sensitive documents stolen. What did it matter really? Was this really what she had given up her life for—this meaningless paperwork?

You love your job, remember? Normal was too boring; you wanted more. Sarah gritted her teeth. She'd never hated that annoying voice in her head as much as she did now.

She sifted through the folders, hanging onto the vague hope that maybe Chuck's file would accidentally find its way into her mailbox. Of course there were no accidents in the agency. Anyone who was anyone knew her record, the way she'd irreconcilably compromised herself, how unpredictable she could be in the field.

Sarah was out of options. She'd called all his work associates and even made a long distance call to Morgan. No one had heard from him. Bryce was her best shot and he wasn't telling her anything.

She'd driven to all his favorite places only to realize she had no hope of finding someone who didn't want to be found. As the days passed, it looked more and more like Chuck had left with no intention of returning. He was probably not even in L.A..

She considered calling Bryce for the millionth time today. Sarah thought she was probably a phone call away from being blocked. She could tell he was getting frustrated too.

You're not an agent anymore, he'd said. You're not on the case. Do your job and I'll do mine.

What Bryce meant was office-time. Long, baneful hours shut away behind four walls. Sarah wondered how she used to get through it all. Had she really found the work fulfilling?

Sarah saw that her hands were shaking and she knew she had to put an end to it before she broke down again. There was only so much her nerves could take. Habitually her hands reached for the photo she'd placed face-down on her desk. She hadn't been able to look at it since and today was no different. The tips of her fingers touched against the wooden frame but no more.

Tomorrow will be better.

Hearing the voice chilled her. How poor were the odds when even your conscience felt bad for you?

Sarah closed her eyes. She was so tired, more tired than she'd ever been in her entire life, but she couldn't sleep. Not when Chuck was still out there somewhere. Even when her body gave in and she lapsed into unconsciousness, she would always wake in cold sweat, his expression of fear and betrayal seared forever into the back of her eyes.

Sarah sighed and scribbled a few things into her report. She looked at the door again, sympathizing for all the caged animals at the zoo. She didn't feel like it was safe to leave until she was the last person in the building—not since one of the tellers had approached her and asked why she looked so rough.

Then the speculations began. The people she called her colleagues seemed to revel in her downfall and though Sarah was not one who was sensitive to petty words, she could not face them, or rather, the awful truth they posed.

If they thought her husband was too good for her, they were right. If they thought he'd finally left her, they were correct. And if they had a betting pool on how many hours she could spend inside an office without stepping out, she would wager all day.

_

The last staff member left the bank at seven—remarkably late for a Friday night. It made Sarah wonder if he was just as lonely as she was. She mailed off her reports, packed her bags, and left for the apartment. She refused to think of it as her home. Without Chuck it was just a place like any other place, only this one had her name on the lease.

Sarah was grateful for the lack of rush hour traffic. She turned up the radio as loud as she could to drown out her despairing thoughts, and pressed down hard on the gas, passing the cars in a blur. She could drive as fast as she wanted but she could never escape. She wondered if it was even worth the drive, transferring from one prison to another.

Sarah made it to the apartment in half the time. It was pitch dark inside and she kept it that way, navigating through the corridors by memory alone. Untouched take-out boxes piled the kitchen table. She threw the mail onto the growing pile on the stone counter and moved her way to the mess in the living room. The bedroom door remained closed. She couldn't sleep there.

Without bothering to change, she collapsed on the couch. Nine days. It had only been nine days.

Only. The notion had never seemed so trivial. On one hand nine days had felt like nothing the last time her and Chuck took a real vacation, and on the other, she could not believe she had survived nine whole days without him.

With one hand rubbing her temple, trying to ward off the inevitable migraine, she used the other to press the phone to her ear. It had become a habit, really. She waited while it rang, knowing it would pick up sooner than later.

_

Sarah closed her eyes for what felt like a minute, but at the slamming of the door she was thrown back into the cruel light of reality.

She looked blearily up at the ceiling fixture, wondering who would have the audacity to flick the switch.

"Sarah?" For a second, as she struggled to find her way back into consciousness, she thought it might have been someone else.

Sarah didn't dare show her disappointment as she sat up in the couch. "What time is it?" she whispered.

"Eight," he replied, sounding a little breathless.

Eight. Only eight.

"You called. What is it?"

Sarah shook her head slowly, wondering how he could even ask a question so obtuse.

"Have you—" Before she could even finish her sentence, she could see his disappointment. "Have you heard anything?" she asked anyway. It was his fault if he expected any more from her.

"I told you, Sarah," he said, crossing his arms. "You're not on the case."

Sarah stood up, hastily combing her hands through her hair. She was a sight and she knew it.

"Then let me," she said. "Tell them I want to be on the case, Bryce." She walked up to him, determined to push this as much in his face as she could. He had wanted this, after all, hadn't he?

"Tell them I want back in."

Bryce averted her gaze. "You're in no condition," he said. "They'd never let you."

Sarah clenched her fists, tempted to prove him wrong. "Then I'll tell them," she said. "It's what they've always wanted, isn't it?"

Bryce cut into his lips, still avoiding her gaze. She had a chance then, even though they thought she was compromised, they'd still take her back.

"They're not going to put you on this case," he warned. "You were compromised then, and you're compromised a thousand times over now. Besides, he's not a priority; I'm not even supposed to be on this case. I'm doing this—"

"As what?" She dared him to say it. "A courtesy?" The word disgusted her. He could tell her in a dozen different ways that he wasn't like the other agents, but his actions betrayed him. He was exactly like the rest of them; intelligent and willful though he was, Bryce was still a sheep.

His primary task had been to recover Jill, it was the sole reason he hadn't left L.A.. Chuck was simply a byproduct, a secondary objective whose completion was optional.

"If it weren't for Jill, would you even be here?"

If it hadn't been for Jill, would any of this have happened?

Bryce took a deep breath. "Look, Sarah…" He tried to place a hand on her shoulder but she took a step back before he could. It did little to deter him. "I know Chuck. I know how he's feeling. And what you're about to do…it's not going to help."

Sarah couldn't believe her ears. All the pain in her body faded as her system was overtaken by a torrent of wild emotions.

"How dare you!" she accused, trembling with rage. Before she knew what was happening, her hands were already seized around Bryce's collar. "What do you know? You don't even care about him!"

Bryce gazed at her with a mask of indifference. He pried her fingers one-by-one off his crumpled shirt and held her steady, his hands like a restraint wrapped around her wrists.

"I know you're not thinking things through," he said. "You need to be logical about this, Sarah. Don't make another mistake you're going to just regret."

Sarah winced; he had wounded her more deeply with the reminder than if he had simply struck her with a blunt instrument.

"You quit for a reason. Don't you remember?"

Sarah stared up at him, finally seeing the truth in those pale blue orbs.

She did.

The words sent Sarah back to the early days following Chuck's operation. She had returned to the agency fully prepared to start living the life of her new identity. It should have been everything she'd wanted, but all she wanted to be was Sarah Walker. Chuck's Sarah.

She'd given it all up without a second thought. The agency's threats had sounded so petty to her ears; her losses had felt so insubstantial then. Not like the loss she felt now, the kind that made her feel like the ground could swallow her whole.

"You come back, and it won't be so easy to leave this time." He shook her by the shoulders. "Did you hear me?"

Sarah looked up at him. "What am I supposed to do?" she asked. "I need him. I need him back."

The instant she said the words, she could see the look of pity grow in Bryce's eyes. He probably thought she was pathetic; she had become the weak, insensible sort of woman he'd always despised.

So what? Was she not allowed to be human? Was she not allowed emotions?

If he posed the question and asked her how far she would go, Sarah already knew her answer. Bryce seemed to too, which was why he did not ask.

"I care…" Bryce said as he finally let her go, allowing her to sway unsteadily on her own. "That's why I'm doing this."

Sarah closed her eyes. As much as she hated Bryce right now, she knew he was right. She gave up that life for Chuck, and returning to it would not bring him back to her.

"Is that a no, then?" she asked, taking a deep breath.

Bryce ran a hand through his hair. "Get some sleep, Sarah."

_

It was still dark when Sarah opened her eyes. She couldn't be sure if she was part of a dream or a memory, but she knew better than to delude herself this time. She was in bed, and Chuck was lying beside her, fast asleep.

A lump formed in Sarah's throat and she found it suddenly difficult to breathe. She could feel the warmth of his body; hear the sound of his even breaths. When she reached out and laid a careful hand on his chest, it was met with something solid. Something so substantially real.

Did her mind have the power to do this?

"Chuck?" she whispered. "Chuck, wake up," she urged, shaking him gently.

He moaned, his entire face scrunching with annoyance.

"Chuck," she persisted, determined to rouse him. "Chuck, please open your eyes."

With a sigh, he did as she asked, looking drowsily through the darkness into hers. His eyes brought light into the dark room; eyes filled with so much warmth she could feel it radiate over her entire body.

"Is this real?" She waited on bated breath, wondering if a dream would speak the truth. When Chuck did not respond, she rested her hand against his cheek, confirming once more for herself that he was indeed solid flesh and blood.

His response took her by surprise. "Was any of this real?"

Sarah didn't understand.

"I'm dreaming, aren't I," she said. Not a question but a fact. Things that were too good to be true usually were. If this was the real Chuck, he wouldn't allow her to stroke his hair like she was now. Slow gentle circles, tangling her fingers into the curls she'd been pining for.

Sarah wrinkled her brows. "Is this a dream?" she asked again. "Is this real?" She brought her face ever closer to his. She needed him to tell her, to crush her hopes so she wouldn't delude herself any longer, because every moment of doubt was torture.

"No," he breathed, but that didn't make his presence any less real for her.

"Am I dreaming then?"

"Yes."

Strange as it was, the words came as a relief. Sarah let go of all hope and sank back into the bed, her long limbs sprawled over his.

"Okay," she breathed, taking his hand. It was a perfect match, as if his fingers had been spaced for hers alone.

They held hands in silence, and she did everything possible to hold the all-too-familiar sensation of disappointment at bay. She didn't know how long she had before this ended. A second? A minute?

"How do I make this last?" she asked. "I want you to stay with me, forever."

Chuck turned his head against the pillow and smiled. "There is no such thing as forever."

That was right. She didn't believe in forever. It felt so odd hearing Chuck, the eternal optimist, speak her thoughts.

She pressed a finger to his lips, shushing him before he could echo any more of her pessimism. Any second now this moment would end and she had all her conscious hours to argue with herself.

A tightness formed in Sarah's throat. "Chuck?"

He raised his brows despite the fact his eyelids were starting to droop. "Go back to sleep, Sarah," he whispered. "We'll talk about it tomorrow."

"No," she said, shaking her head sadly. "You have to stay awake." She shook him by the shoulders, trying to keep him with her.

Chuck furrowed his brows. He moaned into the pillow, the lure of the unconscious too great to ignore.

"Can't…"

Sarah squeezed his hand. "Chuck?"

There was a pause. "What?" he finally asked, speaking into the pillow.

"Kiss me, please."

Chuck's eyes fluttered open and he smiled a smile that stretched from ear to ear. The sight of it nearly killed her.

"Please?" he asked, his voice filled with amusement. Sarah managed a weak smile.

"Don't make me ask twice," she warned, finding it hard to tease him after all they'd been through.

Sarah closed her eyes and banished all rational thought from her mind. She didn't want to analyze, didn't want to validate. When Chuck's lips met hers, she felt a swell of emotion as real as anything she'd ever experienced. The connection was as terrifying as the first time she'd ever kissed him, really kissed him, with the same knowledge that all they had was borrowed time.

Drowning in her own happiness, Sarah ran her hands hungrily through his hair, gripping tightly onto fistfuls of brown ringlets. She traced her hands across his features the way the sightless did to see, recalling every dearly loved freckle and scar she had forgotten. Chuck was a good kisser. The best she'd ever had—not that he would ever believe her. Forget roast-beef sandwiches, if Sarah were stranded on a desert island, she would survive on this kiss alone.

Then it ended and Sarah was left pining for his touch. Chuck shifted to his side of the bed and she realized she was going to lose him.

"Did you ever love me?"

Sarah didn't understand what her mind was doing. "Yes, of course." What a silly thing to ask.

"I loved you, Sarah," he said. "I trusted you with my life."

A sharp pang struck her in the chest. She didn't want to think about this, to dwell on this, but her mind wasn't letting her go.

"I know. I never meant to hurt you," she whispered. "I was trying to protect you. Can you understand that?"

Seeing her in tears, Chuck placed his arm around her, holding her in exactly the way she needed him to. It felt so good to let him take control, to finally relinquish her grip and let someone else take care of her.

"Yeah, I can." It was the worst kind of hope. Her spirits rose until she remembered that this was only a dream, and then they crashed again.

"I'm so sorry, Chuck."

Chuck wiped away her tears and she held his hand firmly against her cheek, refusing to lose his touch for even a second.

"I know."

They looked into one another's eyes and Sarah wondered if she was reliving a memory. How often did they do this and never realize that it would someday end?

"I have to go now," Chuck said. Already he was letting go, his arms drifting from her sides.

Sarah knew it was no good to call back something that wasn't real.

"Will you come back?" she asked from the empty bed.

He cast a forlorn look in her direction. He didn't know and neither did she.

_

Sarah wasn't sure what came over her but it was too late for that. She rang the doorbell a second time, huddling in her thin dress. She had made an effort to change out of her work attire into something appropriate but she'd been distracted by Chuck's clothes. She grabbed the first dress she saw and allowed herself only a second with his standard white dress shirts, afraid she would taint them with her own scent.

In her haste, she had chosen a dress for the wrong season. This was evident when Ellie opened the door, a curious expression on her face. But the elder woman was tired, and she welcomed Sarah in without a word to her questionable attire.

"I'm sorry, Devon isn't here and the house is falling apart," Ellie excused, trying to wipe off the stain on her wrinkled cardigan. It was no understatement. A small tornado seemed to have run through the living room but Sarah wasn't one to talk.

"Well there's three people here now," she said slowly, waiting for the pain building in her chest to subside. She didn't think it would be so difficult to be here but it was. Everywhere she looked she was surrounded by memories of Chuck.

Ellie said something but it was half drowned out as she moved upstairs into the nursery. Seconds later she returned downstairs with the baby in her arms, a towel draped over her shoulder.

"Hey, can you take him for a second?" she asked distractedly. Before Sarah could even protest, Ellie unceremoniously deposited the infant into her arms.

Sarah's heart jumped and all her previous anxieties returned, only this time Chuck wasn't there to soothe them.

"I'm so sorry," Ellie said, her voice disappearing into the kitchen. "I hope you don't mind. I made soup from a can." Sarah could almost hear the cringe in the older woman's voice.

Wow. She is tired.

"Devon's run out for some bread. He'll be back in a second." Ellie reappeared, looking a little more put together. "Are you going to take a seat?"

Sarah nodded slowly. She hadn't taken a step since getting through the door. She sat down stiffly, afraid even the slightest change in posture would rouse the sleeping baby. He was heavier than she remembered but still just as tiny and frighteningly fragile.

Ellie threw some magazines to the floor and took a seat beside her.

"I should have cleaned earlier," she said, and sighed with exhaustion. "If I had known how much work this was going to be—" She stopped abruptly and put a hand on Sarah's shoulder.

"Hey, are you okay?" Ellie asked, shifting closer to her side.

Sarah held her breath. She counted to five, just in case, and nodded. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

Like her coworkers, Ellie's observations were astute. "You look really tired," the woman finally said, a tactful way of saying she looked like crap. And here Sarah thought she was hiding it so well. "Are you sure everything is alright?"

Sarah couldn't help herself. Ellie was holding the door wide open for a confession, but it was just too hard.

"Sarah?" the older woman asked when she saw her tears. "Hey, what's wrong?"

Sarah overestimated her strength and when Ellie looked at her that way, all she saw was Chuck. Her eyes may not have been the same shade but it reflected the same care and concern that was so familiar to her.

"I miss Chuck," she cried, hugging the baby close. "I miss him so much."

Ellie wrinkled her brows. She tensed the muscles in her face but there was no way to hold back the smile on her face.

"Oh, Sarah," she said, breaking into laughter. "It's only for a few days. It's not like he's never coming back."

Sarah clenched her jaw, sobbing into William's blanket.

Right.

"It's only for another week or so, right?" Ellie asked. Sarah felt trapped. She nodded vaguely, brushing her tears aside, but they just kept coming.

"Oh my goodness, Sarah," Ellie teased. "I've never seen you like this." She put a comforting hand on her sister-in-law, rubbing her back gently. "Are you sure there isn't some other reason you're being so emotional?"

"What?" Sarah gasped, not catching on soon enough. Ellie's grin said it all. "No, Ellie," she said.

"No chance at all?" she asked. Ellie looked so hopeful, Sarah almost felt bad quashing all her dreams.

Her own too, Sarah reminded.

Gazing down at baby William, her breath caught in her throat. This would never be hers, she realized. Even if they found Chuck, he would never love her the same way again.

Sarah stroked his sweet cherub cheeks, hastily wiping away the tears that fell onto them.

This could never be hers again. She'd lost her chance.

The baby wrinkled its face, stirring from its peaceful slumber.

"No…shhh…" Sarah tried to placate him but it was to no avail. She was as much a failure at being a mother as she was a wife.

"I'm so sorry," Sarah cried, looking to Ellie for help.

Ellie's initial smile fell and she looked at her sister-in-law in confusion. "It's okay, it's what babies do," she said. "Sarah, don't worry about it."

The baby squirmed in its blanket and threw back its head in a full-fledged howl.

"I'm so sorry, Ellie," Sarah cried, looking more red-faced than the infant. "I'm so sorry!"

Ellie rushed to catch the baby as Sarah stood up but she refused to hold him. Firm but forceful, the brunette pushed Sarah back down on the sofa.

"Okay. What's wrong?" she asked, ignoring the indignant howls that threatened to tear a hole through the roof.

Sarah winced, pleading with Ellie to have mercy. "Please take the baby."

"Only if you really tell me what's really wrong," she said, staring hard at her sister-in-law. "I'm not letting you leave without an explanation."

Sarah swallowed slowly. She had seen the same protectiveness extended to Chuck often enough to recognize the determination behind that stare but it was a new feeling altogether to be on the receiving end.

Wordlessly Sarah handed Ellie back her baby, sighing with relief once the burden was off her hands. It was remarkable how quickly William settled once he was in the right arms and Sarah looked on, surprised at the twinge of jealousy that momentarily distracted her from all the pain she was suffering.

"I did something terrible, Ellie," she said, sinking in her seat. She held her breath, waiting for to be swallowed whole.

Ellie's expression was complacent. "Like what?" she asked, tilting her head.

Sarah closed her eyes. Was she really going to do this? Was she really going to come clean?

That wasn't fair. Information like that put those she loved in danger and that was exactly what she'd spent the last half decade trying to prevent.

"Just something terrible…" Sarah shook her head. "Just trust me."

Ellie looked at her with a critical eye but made no move to pry more information out of her. For that, Sarah was eternally grateful. It wasn't easy for someone as tenacious as her sister-in-law to just accept something without an explanation.

"Did you and Chuck have a fight?"

Sarah saw no point in holding back the burning tears. "Not exactly," she confessed, wiping her face hastily. "He's upset." Then she looked at the woman and voiced her greatest fear. "I don't know if he's ever coming back."

"Oh, Sarah." Ellie's hand went out to her. "Couples fight, that's normal," she said with an encouraging squeeze on the shoulder. "Devon and I fight all the time."

Sarah arched her brows and knew from the slight tinge of color on Ellie's cheeks that it was a lie. They were everything a perfect couple ought to be.

"I'm sure Chuck will come to his senses and when he does, the two of you will talk through it. He can't hide forever." Sarah smiled weakly. If only she knew the half of it. "Give my brother a little more credit."

Sarah shook her head. "What makes you so sure?"

Ellie looked as if she had just been asked for the sum of two and two. "Sarah!" she exclaimed, nearly agitating the baby in her arms. "Look…I know I haven't always been supportive of your relationship with my brother." Ellie had to take a moment to wipe the guilty expression off her face. "But I know how much he loves you. And whatever you did isn't going to change that."

Sarah wished she had the naivety to believe Ellie's words. She so badly wanted to cling to that hope.

You don't know what I've done. Sarah wanted to spill every secret she'd ever kept but she just couldn't, not to Ellie.

"I knew you were the one for my brother the first time I saw the two of you together," the woman with a rueful smile. "Even when you guys broke up the first, second—" A pause. "Third time." Sarah winced and wished the woman had a hazier memory. As it were, Ellie's observations were astute.

"Even when I thought you guys were really over. Even when he told me he'd moved on and was dating someone else, I knew there could only be you."

Ellie squeezed Sarah's hand and the simple touch held such conviction that it made her dare to believe.

"Have some faith in him," she said. "I just know you guys will work things out."

Sarah braved a smile, having nearly forgotten what it felt like to look forward to something. "I hope you're right," she said. "I really hope you're right."

Ellie smiled back, her expression so different from the ones she'd gotten used to seeing in Bryce. It wasn't so much the hope as it was the confidence of knowing that everything would be okay. Ellie's belief in her brother was infallible, unshakable, a pillar of strength that Sarah could take refuge against.

"It will."

Sarah allowed herself to fall under Ellie's gaze, and for the first time in a long time, she felt like she could breathe again.

"It will."