Chapter 17:

Another day. Another stack of files trialed. Chuck didn't understand why, but he always felt a massive headache come on after running through the images. No matter how many sugar-laden sodas and Red Bulls they fed him, he had his limits. And after two weeks, Chuck felt like he'd reached his ultimate limit.

He dreaded every file he had to trial. Every time he opened a new folder now, it would trigger all sorts of images in his head. The photographs, the documents, the schematics, none of them were random. It was always exactly the data he needed.

Chuck knew this was bad. He felt like a freak with a tail. Like he had an undiagnosed medical condition that was sure to attract international attention, and Chuck hated attention.

After some time he could sense when it would happen; like the way you could feel a sneeze come on before it did but that didn't mean he could prevent it. He could control the rate at which the images came forth but it still took him time to recover; to control the reaction so he wouldn't alert anyone else to the strange anomaly because he was pretty sure the last thing they wanted to hear was that he had all their confidential files memorized and stored in his head.

.

It was nearly five in the afternoon and he'd only gone through half the usual amount of paper. Camille was not going to be pleased when she saw this. Chuck snuck a glance at the guard posted at the door.

He couldn't imagine a job worse than his except perhaps for the man charged with guarding him. Up to this point, Chuck still hadn't figured out whether the man with the gun was sent to protect the files or him. He was not exactly the talkative type.

Chuck snuck another glance behind him. "You can leave early if you want, you know," he offered. The man's shift ended at five exactly, replaced by the evening guard. Chuck's shift was never-ending, and if Camille had her way, he would never leave this room.

"Not like I'm going anywhere." Chuck turned back to face the monitor. "I'm just going to keep typing…and in another five minutes the other guy will be here."

Chuck did just that, making it look more tedious than it really was. When he heard the door buzz open and then close, he knew his plan had worked. When he turned around, he found that he was completely alone.

His fingers trembled with excitement. It was rare for him to go unsupervised and he had waited a long time for this moment. Time was ticking and all of Chuck's five previous Red Bulls seemed to take effect at exactly the same time, supercharging him enough to literally give him wings.

He pulled out the computer software, his fingers deftly typing in the prompt. He'd been fiddling with it in his spare time, hiding it from Camille under an inconspicuous trial folder.

They had confiscated his cell upon arrival. It was a little annoying; they expected him to trust them but they wouldn't even give him the card access to his room. What had started as a mere grudge at first festered into resentment. When trust didn't go both ways, it could only run in the opposite direction.

How could he really know that his family was safe? No one would tell him anything, not even Jill and Chuck was tired of waiting.

That's why he'd created his own program, a way for him to reach the outside world without either side knowing. If everything worked the way he intended, they wouldn't be able to trace the signal back here and Camille would never know that a signal left. If he messed up the code…well, no point in thinking about that.

Chuck nearly completed the connection when he realized he had typed in Sarah's number by mistake. It had come out so habitually. The mouse hovered over the call button and he wondered whether he should just make the connection. He wanted to hear her voice again. All she had to say was 'hello' and he would hang up. No harm no foul.

No. It was too much. Jill was right; he had to move on—starting today.

He changed the number to his sister's and waited for her end to pick up. Three rings, then finally—

"Hello?"

"Ellie?" Chuck nearly squealed, hovering over the monitor with anticipation.

"Chuck!" she exclaimed with equal enthusiasm. "Hello, stranger!"

Chuck felt a heavy boulder lift off his shoulders. Camille had told the truth. Ellie was fine, in fact she sounded better than fine.

"Hi…Ellie," he replied warily. It was never a good sign when Ellie sounded this energetic. "What's going on?"

He heard his sister laugh on the other line and then the question. "When are you coming home?"

"Uhh—" He furrowed his brows. What had they told her?

"Don't make any lame excuses, Charles Bartowski, I've had your wife over here in tears."

Chuck leaned close to the speakers, wondering if he heard correctly. "What?"

"I know it's none of my business, Chuck, and whatever is going on between the two of you is your problem, I know, but you better not be mistreating her."

The accusation was so unexpected that Chuck was at a loss for words. "Why would I—"

"I'm warning you, Chuck, the woman loves you. You'd better be treating her well."

Chuck bit into his lip. Ellie was going to be so mad if she found out the truth. "Have…have you seen her lately?"

A pause. "A few times. She misses you, when are you coming home?"

There was that question again. Ellie could be so determined sometimes.

Chuck didn't know what to think. Why was Sarah still hanging around Ellie? Was she waiting for him to reach out to his family, find some way of leverage? That seemed so beneath her though.

"I don't know when I can come home, it's pretty busy here," Chuck said, lying through his teeth.

"Charles Irving Bartowski!" she scolded, in a tone not so different from their mother's. "Cut that business trip short and come home. I'm really worried about her. I think Sarah's sick—"

"What?" Chuck leaned forwards until his ears were right up against the speakers. "What did you say?"

"Shoot the baby's up, I have to go, Chuck—"

"No!" he cried. She couldn't do this to him. "Ellie, don't you—"

The line went dead and Chuck was left to wonder what exactly his sister meant. He considered dialing Sarah's number but the clock now read five o'clock.

He sighed and closed the screen.

It was probably a trick, Sarah's way of luring him out into the open.

Chuck twiddled his fingers. Maybe. Or maybe she was really sick.

That was a big maybe. If he was wrong his life would be over, but if he was right, he didn't know if he could live with himself.

_

Chuck tried not to let the call get to him, but his worries festered just under the skin. It felt like getting chickenpox all over again, he tried to ignore the temptation but all he wanted to do was scratch.

He didn't say anything to Camille when she came to inspect the day's work and he resisted telling Jill, even though she was the only person he trusted in this place.

It was a secret, a terrible secret at that.

.

The five o'clock shift change came and went but Chuck was forced to sit tight in the computer room. The only reprieve he had was when Jill came to visit. As per usual, the armed guard stepped outside, preventing anyone from entering rather than leaving.

Chuck was feeling a massive headache come on but Camille had likely sent Jill along to make sure he didn't fall behind in development. He wondered if the long-legged brunette worked all her employees this hard or if Chuck was merely being punished for spending time with the enemy.

Jill wasn't making his job any easier, teasing him and distracting him from the files. She seemed more interested in fulfilling her personal agenda than Camille's, whatever that consisted of.

Finally Chuck threw the files aside. "Jill, will you tell me what really happened in those five years?"

His request didn't take her aback as he thought it would. "Okay," Jill said, her expression unwavering. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything," Chuck said, without hesitation. "Tell me everything," he implored, matching her brown eyes with the depth of his. Two could play this game.

Jill pursed her lips. "We didn't realize Sarah was a rogue agent. They allowed her to protect you and pose as your girlfriend. Posed," she stressed. "We bumped into each other during a conference. You were there to fix computers and I was there to give a speech."

Chuck's shoulders sank. He could totally see it, him in his nerd-herd getup having to come face-to-face with Jill and her Stanford degree. Even the thought of it made him want to dissolve into a puddle.

"We had dinner," she said with a slow smile. "And we both realized we still had feelings for each other."

Chuck looked deep into her eyes. He so desperately wanted to believe that it was the truth, but after being so unceremoniously dumped back in college, it was a hard sell for him to imagine Jill still harbored feelings for him.

"When Sarah went off the grid, I stepped into the role. We were happy, Chuck." She grabbed his hand, squeezing it for good measure. "Believe me."

It was not so hard to believe. He still remembered the way she made him feel. How it felt to walk on clouds the first time after they'd kissed. He had been crazy about her.

Had, he reminded himself. That was the pitfall of first love. But those feelings were far and away now. Ten odd years was a lot of perspective.

"Sarah came back," Chuck said slowly, pulling his hand away.

"She was with Bryce," Jill reminded. "And yes, she came back. She was your handler, technically, and our superiors didn't approve of our relationship. They convinced me it would be best if I left. You would have had to come clean at some point to Ellie, and she already hated me. It would have been difficult."

"So you left."

Jill frowned, her brows knitting together. "Chuck," she groaned. "The nature of our relationship was hard."

"But we didn't even try," Chuck argued.

"It was the safest thing for you," she said and crossed her arms. Discussion over. "When I realized Sarah was rogue, it was too late. They locked me in a holding cell to keep me quiet. It was terrible. I went looking for you as soon as I broke free."

Chuck lowered his eyes, feeling guilty for arguing with her. "I'm sorry."

"I am too. I came too late." Her eyes glared accusingly at the gold band on his hand. It made him self-conscious enough to hide the offending hand in his pant pocket.

"But why would they still want me?" he asked. "I had my memories removed."

Jill shook her head. "No, you didn't have a choice. After you helped them build the Intersect, they no longer had any use for you. They removed your memories so you wouldn't remember it."

"But why would Sarah…" Chuck tried to think back to those early days. How he'd woken up in the hospital without a clue that five years had passed. How Sarah had chased after him, giving up everything to be with him.

"Well, look at you now," Jill said, gesturing to the monitor. "You're still an important person. Even after the surgery you're still able to program this thing."

Chuck shrugged. "Who knows if I'm doing this right. This is just some basic code…"

"Don't be modest," Jill said. "You're brilliant. That's why they wanted you."

Chuck found it difficult to swallow the compliment. It was just another reminder that Sarah didn't want him for him.

The conjecture didn't feel quite right though. Why would she do so much for him if it was all for nothing? Why would she skip work and take him for a weekend in the mountains, just the two of them, if she didn't want to be with him? Why would she go through all the trouble of torturing him with her cooking when they could so easily order out every night? Why did she hug him so tightly, kiss him so passionately, and smile so brilliantly if even a fraction was good enough for show? All of it seemed like a hassle if none of it was real, like decorating a cake when it was only going to be thrown in someone's face.

And Chuck knew for a fact that Sarah had no interest in computers. She rarely asked after the specifics of his work, and only endured the long-winded jargon between Morgan and him for his sake.

"Doesn't it seem odd to you that she would give up her life to marry me…all for a cover?"

Jill looked blankly at him. "No," she said, hardly batting an eyelash. "Agents have sacrificed more for less," she informed. Her matter-of-fact way of speaking stung. Sacrifice, that's what the last two years had been for Sarah.

"Don't worry, Chuck, things will be better now that we are together again."

Chuck closed his eyes. He thought learning about the past would take his mind off the headache but it only seemed to magnify it.

"I really don't think I can handle a relationship right now," he said.

"Just try," Jill said. It seemed to be the favorite word of the facility. "Just try, and see how it feels." She smiled seductively at him. "You never know, maybe you'll like it."

Chuck stared at her. He imagined their lips meeting, the way it had so many years before, but now it only felt wrong. He pulled back from her, maintaining the physical detachment.

"I'm not like you agents," he said. "I can't just pretend to feel one way or another."

Jill frowned. "You have to pretend?" she asked, sounding hurt.

Chuck winced. It was a terribly inconsiderate thing to say. "No," he said, backtracking. "I care for you, we're friends. But I'm still married, Jill, I have a whole other life out there—"

"That wasn't real," she stressed.

"Exactly!" Chuck chorused. "I can't just separate my feelings like that. I'm not like you or Sarah or Carmen."

Jill frowned again. "Carmen," she repeated. The statement might as well have been a question.

"Yeah," Chuck said slowly. "Tall, blond with blue-eyes…"

"Right." Jill smiled. "You have a weakness for those types, don't you?"

Chuck found it hard to follow her tease. Jill didn't know who Carmen was. She must have gone over his case file after her escape; she had to know that it wasn't Sarah protecting him the entire five years.

So why didn't she?

Chuck stared up at Jill, a chill going through his entire body. "Jill, are you telling me everything?"

She looked at him suspiciously, her eyes narrowing just the slightest. "What do you mean?" she asked, sliding out of her chair.

Chuck gulped. "Are you holding out on me?"

Jill stood to her full height, towering over him the only way she could, with Chuck seated.

"I took a bullet for you," she reminded, pointing to the midline of her chest. "I saved your life."

Of course. And she was probably never going to let him forget it.

"I'm sorry," Chuck said, holding his hands out in surrender. "I'm just tired. It's been a long day." Now he knew he was just making excuses. "I've been cooped up here for days, Jill. Do you think we could take a walk?"

Jill sighed. Her expression softened and she looked cautiously at the door.

"I'll see what I can do," she said, sitting back down in the chair. Everything was back to normal when she smiled, but he knew just as well as she did that Jill hadn't answered the ultimate question.