Fate
Chapter 11
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A/N: The big finale is next. Sorry to keep you in suspense for one more but I had to do it. Too many loose ends to clean up in one update. Thanks to Kroblues as always for sifting through my drabble, so I don't embarrass myself.
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0005.7 A.T.I.
Italy
Venice Underground
Casey was annoyed. The Nerd had just saved his hide. Casey had been stuck in that hole for days. They hadn't tortured him. Casey would have welcomed it to alleviate the boredom and uselessness of sitting in that raunchy hole. He was running behind a decidedly fast Agent Carmichael. Lost the intersect my ass.
"Chuck, what the hell are you doing here." Casey said through clenched teeth.
Chuck broke into a wide grin. "Saving your ass again, Major Casey. Come on, keep up old man."
Casey growled in response and attempted to sprint ahead of Chuck.
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0006.3 A.T.I.
Japan
Yakushima Industrial Area
Casey was smiling. He'd been chasing this group of jackasses practically around the world. He'd had to abandon a search for Russia's new submarine but it had been worth it. There had been a sufficient amount of gun play, several traitors caught alive for questioning, and loads of intel and weaponry intercepted. Today was a good day. There was little left to do. The main force of miscreants and baddies had been corralled up. Deciding to conduct a final sweep of the storage facility, Casey grabbed a handful of his team and headed out towards the storage area. Moving between two crates, Casey caught sight of a straggler. Moving as stealthily as he could, Casey sidled up towards his target. He was caught unaware from the side. His target was a decoy. High powered rifles exploded into action, practically mowing down the majority of his sweeper team. Ducking down as far as he could Casey struggled to keep his head out of the line of fire. The situation was getting worse by the second. Thirty men tops, the analysts said. Piece of cake, they said. Right...
More men were pouring in from several sides. Lines of fire were crossed in every direction. Casey feared to fire his weapon, concerned that he would hit one of the few remaining men fighting through this losing battle. Casey quickly realized he'd finally been had. His nine lives were used up. He saw the determined look in the eyes of his compatriots, set to take as many of them as they could down with them. Casey caught the eyes of his men and nodded, the silent communication passed between them was solemn. Each of them had come to terms with their end.
Casey held up three fingers, they nodded again. Casey slowly counted down until he was holding up a balled fist. His team exploded from cover tossing the last of their stun and fragmentation grenades, firing with abandon at anything that looked like a target. Several enemy targets fell simultaneously with several of the team. Some simply grunted as their body armor or leg caught a piece of lead, continuing their firing doggedly. Casey felt the familiar tear of lead permeating his shoulder and in his leg, the force of the impact spinning him out of balance. Stumbling to the ground and against a crate, Casey caught one more bullet on his way down. This time he wasn't so lucky. The bullet defeated the body armor and sat lodged against his spine, having already perforating one of his lungs. Casey knew he was done for now. Pulling out his victory package and biting off the end, Casey lit the fat Cuban he always carried into battle. Casey sucked as hard as he could manage, savoring the smooth flavor and leaned his head back, a smile spreading across his face.
Casey felt his vision slipping and knew he wasn't far off now. Casey dug into his bag one last time yanking out the last of his grenades. Pulling all the pins, Casey haphazardly tossed them in random directions.
"Fucking Communists." Casey muttered as the life slipped away from him.
The rest of the team, hearing the cacophony of explosions and gun fire on the other side of the facility had rushed to help, but were dejectedly disappointed when they ran up and witnessed the result of the massacre. A few remaining enemies checking bodies. The backup team made quick work of the unsuspecting shooters. They swept the area again, making sure there were no more ambushes. They found nothing and began the macabre and distasteful task of policing the bodies of their fallen fellow agents.
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2015.7 A.D.
Washington D.C.
CIA Headquarters
"Are you high?" The Director asked, wearing an incredulous face as he stared intently at the General on the other side of the late night video call. On the other side of the video conference a very serious General Beckman simply stared at him. Jesus, she's not kidding. "Why on earth would I want to drop one of my best and most seasoned agents? Because one of your agents wants me to? Unlikely, no, simply not going to happen."
"Director, don't take this wrong but do you have any idea why you have that job, or what happened to the last three Directors? Ever wonder why their tenure was so short? Fuck with Charles Carmichael and you'll find out. He will know of the outcome of this discussion without me even telling him, which I do plan on doing either way. I learned a long time ago, the hard way, not to get in his way. If you don't believe me, ignore me. Just have your personal effects packed because your time in that office will be short. That's not even me threatening you, it's just a warning. I won't have to do anything." Beckman had sworn, she couldn't remember the last time she had done so out loud.
The director smirked. Either the General was losing it or she was lying through her teeth. What the hell is she playing at? The last three Directors had resigned for personal reasons. He liked to think he wasn't entirely incompetent. He had poured over his predecessors' files with special interest. "I'll have you know that the last three Directors were not deposed, they resigned."
"Did you happen to notice who made those entries?" Beckman challenged him, a smirk on her face. He's a slow learner.
"What are you getting at General?" He asked growing tired of this conversation. "You are obviously bursting to tell me."
"Oh, I'm sure you can read just fine. Pull them up. I'll wait." Beckman said, a level of mirth edging into her response. She hadn't had this much fun in years. So this is what it's like to be on Chuck's side of things. I need to get a life if this is my idea of fun. Fun, it was almost a completely foreign concept at this point in her life.
Beckman adjusted herself in her chair, seeking a more comfortable position. She found it and continued her wait, drilling her fingers into her desk in an eternal march of impatience. Her eyebrow arched in surprise at how long it was taking the Director to come back.
"Network problems over there Director? I've already pulled them up here. Should I send them over for you? I've got a carrier pigeon here waiting." Where is this coming from? You're enjoying this too much, General. So much for professional courtesy...
A decidedly perturbed grunt popped out of the speakers at the Beckman's latest jibe. "That won't be necessary, General." The last word dripping in sarcasm, indicating he thought that maybe she ought to act like one. On top of everything else he was learning tonight the last thing he needed was some old ass, grandma type mocking him. "I see the entries. They're signed 'CC, I' what the hell does that mean?"
"Charles Carmichael, Intersect." Beckman said, punctuating the three words carefully so he would understand. The Director was proving denser by the moment. She was getting tired, the game was only fun if the prey knew they were being toyed with. He didn't seem to catch on.
"Riiiight... The Intersect is a myth. There is no interagency agent running around saving the world. You're blowing smoke up my ass now."
"Jesus, Mike, you are thick. Obviously he's not interagency, he's NSA, but you might also want to take a look at some other 'CC, I' logged files. I don't have time for you to muddle through them tonight. This is taking longer than necessary as it is. I've sufficiently warned you. God help you if you can't put the pieces together after this. Goodnight, director." Hmpf, not for long, at this rate.
Beckman ended the conference in her trademark style, suddenly and without warning, or time for rebuttals. She turned to the phone on the desk and made a call, one she should have made a long time ago.
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2015.7
Los Angeles
Chuck's Apartment
"Chuck, that fucking phone is ringing again." Lisa said, she had just gotten through the fit of tears the last call had caused. What did she do? Something in her past life that pissed off the gods?
"I'll take this outside." Chuck said quietly as he walked back into the room. Snatching the phone that was so cruelly torturing his partner he made his way out of the room quickly. Surprised that it was Beckman and not Sarah, he mentally prepared one of his best jibes.
"Evening, General."
"Chuck, before you start hear me out." Beckman nearly pleaded.
"Try me." Chuck responded, not liking where this was going. He caught onto something behind her words. Was that...feelings? I was under the impression she'd had hers surgically removed.
"You might want to sit down." Beckman said, this time a tired resolution clearly emanating through her words.
"I'm a big boy Beckman, just spit it out will you." What the hell is wrong with the General?!
Beckman started from the beginning. Nearly an hour later Chuck's phone was insistently warning him the battery was about to run out.
He was sitting.
The amount of information wasn't nearly as much as he normally absorbed, it was the particulars that had left him speechless and unable to move from the seat he had fallen into. Chuck knew about his mom and why she had left. Bryce's imbedded gift had revealed all of that story and more.
Glad that she had made an impression on at least one her recipients tonight Beckman ended the call, leaving Chuck in a state of complete shock.
He hadn't been so summarily shocked into inaction since the phone call years ago, outlining the last three quarters of a decade.
His dad did this? Really? Chuck was having a hard time processing this. Chuck had to admit that every other time his dad had tried to help him it had been disastrous, so it wasn't that far of stretch to believe this was his doing. They were with the best intentions, but his dad thought things through as much as Bryce did. Not at all. Chuck hated thinking ill of his father, he loved him despite all of this, but he wished his friends and family would simply stop trying to help him. Not since the very beginning had it ever worked. Did no one get this but him?
Chuck slowly moved out of the haze that was his new reality. So much had changed in the last forty-eight hours. Chuck plugged in the phone remembering vaguely that it had been urgently requesting more power. Chuck decided to hit the streets for a while. A run would give him time to process the new information. No need to be unnecessarily internally conflicted when Sarah made it home. Chuck quickly changed into his running gear and headed out the door. Picking a challenging pace he put himself on auto pilot and settled into his run.
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Back at the apartment the phone rang again.
You have got to be fucking kidding me?!
"Chuck, Jesus Christ, will you put that thing on vibrate?" She didn't get an answer. She wandered around the apartment, the phone ringing in the background incessantly. An exasperated Lisa, finding no Chuck, snatched at the phone.
Lisa spoke, curtly, "Hello?" surprised at her own attitude.
"Um, this is Sarah. Is Chuck there?" Sarah said, wondering why Lisa had to answer the phone this time. She really just wanted to talk to Chuck.
"He's not here. I don't know where he went. He got a ridiculously long call from Beckman and took off. Judging from the fact the car is still here he went for a run."
Chuck goes for runs? Since when? 'The' Car?
"You must be Lisa. We didn't properly introduce ourselves last time. I'm Sarah Walker." Sarah offered. She could be friendly even if Lisa wasn't going to be.
Lisa wasn't going to fight fair. She would be here soon enough so Lisa would get an early start. "Lisa Bartowksi. I take it the Barker thing was a cover?" It was a cheap shot but it was the truth. It was a legal reality. She had the papers to prove it. It had become a necessity. Chuck's sister was like a hound after a fox. She wouldn't give it up and there was no other way to explain their constant togetherness and the living situation without it after a while.
Sarah was speechless. Bartowski? What the hell was going? What was this bitch playing at?
"Excuse me? Isn't Bartowski a cover alias?" Sarah said through gritted teeth. Her pitch elevating up several levels of venomous.
"Nope." Lisa knew she was taking a gamble with both Chuck and Sarah but she didn't care at the moment. The moment was too glorious to pass up.
"Explain. Now." Sarah said, with no effort to hide the hate emanating off her in venomous rolls.
"March 23rd, 2014." Lisa said flippantly, ignoring Sarah's not so veiled emotions.
The line went dead on Lisa's end. She shrugged her shoulders in dismissal. God, I'm going to pay for that. Dearly.
An hour later a sweaty, panting Chuck burst into the apartment.
Lisa was sipping a coffee at the counter in the kitchen, wishing suddenly it was laced with sedatives. I could get some from the stash...
"Sarah called. Again. She didn't seem too happy." Lisa offered.
"Lisa... what did you say to her." Chuck asked, a level of concern she hadn't ever seen before flitting over his features.
Where ARE those sedatives...
"The truth. She asked what my name was Chuck." Lisa said, deciding to get out in the open. She'd take her licks now.
A dawning realization hit Chuck and Lisa watched with horror as a very dark look came over him. She shuddered, twice, feeling very small and slightly scared. She had never feared for her safety from Chuck but that look was a new one and she knew she'd done a very, very bad thing.
Flying toward Chuck, Lisa prepared to grovel at his feat, begging for forgiveness. She didn't get that far, Chuck stiff armed her halfway there.
Lisa had expected anger, she could deal with that. Denial wasn't an option she had considered Chuck taking.
"No. you don't get to apologize. Lisa, call her back and explain. Now." Chuck said, seething.
Lisa's eyes widened in horror. Of all the things she had entertained in her head as she waited for Chuck that was one more thing she hadn't thought of. Not that, anything but that.
"Chuck..." Lisa began, pleading.
Chuck registered the pure horror on the face of his partner, for once Chuck found himself not caring. "Now, Lisa. Not a word to me until you fix this." Chuck said interrupting Lisa before she could continue. Pointing to the phone he walked out of the room, headed for the shower.
Lisa registered the sounds of Chuck starting and entering the shower before she could bring herself to move. What have I done?!
God, you are a monumental idiot, Lisa. She mentally berated herself. You deserve this. That was decidedly, horribly, catty, even for you. What the hell possessed you to do that? That wasn't just jealousy. Stupid.
Lisa reached for the phone. Wincing as she grabbed it as if it had scalded her hand. She found the number and dialed it, hoping for a voicemail.
"Walker." A severe voice answered.
"It's Lisa." Lisa responded timidly.
"Bitch" Sarah responded.
"It's not like I made it out to be. We're married, technically, but not really. It's for the cover. I'm sorry. Honestly I don't know what came over me. Insane jealousy maybe? It's not an excuse, after everything you two have been through that was a monumentally evil thing to do to you. I'm sorry. I don't expect you to forgive me but please just don't kill me." Lisa's words came out in a rush, a sincere rush, Sarah deducted. She sounded much like Chuck did when he was groveling; he was especially good at it.
"Tell me your real name." Sarah said not ready to address the apology.
"Anderson, Lisa Anderson." Lisa said, not knowing what else to say.
There was silence on the line. Lisa grew more and more uncomfortable at the silence as the seconds ticked by torturously.
"I forgive you, Lisa. Apparently, you're an integral part of Chuck's life. I won't be at odds with you if you're going to be around as much as I suspect. Let's put this behind us."
Lisa broke down, crying into the phone. She hadn't expected the famous Sarah Walker to forgive her.
Sarah sighed into the phone. Get a grip woman.
Lisa sniffed and cleared her throat. "Thank you, Sarah. I'm sure you want to talk to Chuck. He's in the shower, but I'll make sure he calls you back."
"Thank you, Lisa." A measured Sarah said before severing the call.
Lisa sighed heavily, the crushing weight of Chuck's anger still weighing on her. She contemplated interrupting his shower but decided against it, going instead with an intercept between him and his room. She needed to clear the air, now. They had never been at odds before and the feeling was devastating. The cold chill that had washed over her when Chuck last looked at her was enough to send her back into historical bouts of crying.
When Chuck emerged from his shower Lisa was shocked that he no longer wore the intense look of anger he had when he left. Even when he caught sight of her his face didn't change. He stopped midway down the hall and looked at her expectantly. Lisa closed the gap of space between them, coming to a stop a respectable couple of feet away.
"I made the call. Sarah and I are fine. I told her you would call her back." Lisa said. Not registering any change in Chuck's demeanor Lisa spilled over.
"Chuck, I'm so sorry. I can't even begin to explain why I did it. I don't even know. Please, please forgive me. I can't live if you can't forgive me." Lisa had made her way to Chuck and he hesitantly held her next to him.
"I forgive you, Lisa. I know why you did it, and I don't entirely blame you." Chuck offered, knowing he needed to help her clear the air. He was still a little angry and taken back by Lisa's sudden outburst of malice towards Sarah. It was entirely out of character for her.
"Thank you, Chuck. Thank you so much." Lisa said releasing Chuck from her death grip.
"I'm going to clean up before Sarah gets here. I don't want her thinking you were living with a slob all this time." Lisa said before she ran off to her room, the weight lifting from her shoulders with each step.
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Chuck sighed. The shower had let him calm down. The murderous thoughts Lisa's actions had brought out of him had made him feel dirty. The intersect had even offered up several solutions for her demise. Chuck shamefully admitted to himself that he had almost picked one.
Chuck didn't know how he had suddenly become so lucky and unlucky at the same time. He had two despicably amazing, hot women in love with him. He loved them both back, but he was only in love with one of them. It was painful and would become even more so watching Lisa be subjected to watching from the sidelines. Maybe Lisa would consider moving on. As much as he would miss her, he didn't think his selfishness should cause her any angst she wasn't willing to subject her own self to.
Grabbing his phone off the kitchen table Chuck hightailed it to his room. Slightly hesitant about calling Sarah suddenly, Chuck paused as he began dialing. Chuck didn't know how many more hormonal blonde CIA agents he could take this morning. Quickly getting over his momentary bout of selfishness Chuck finished dialing and waited for Sarah to pick up. She didn't. Chuck got her voicemail and heard his own voice, spewing out the greeting he had recorded for her.
Chuck hung up and went about getting dressed. With one leg in and one leg out while putting on his pants the phone the phone rang, coordinated as ever Chuck managed to bring half the room down with him in his effort to move the four feet towards the ringing phone.
From under a pile of books, clothes and parts of an obliterated shelf Chuck panted out a weak, "ungh." Trying to catch his breath, Chuck struggled to untangle himself as Lisa burst into the room. Hearing the load crashes from down the hall Lisa had hightailed to Chuck's room. Bursting through the door and catching sight of his plight Lisa dragged him out of the mess and blushed quickly before running back out of the room. Chuck looked around, confused at what had suddenly spooked his usually unabashed partner.
During the fall Chuck had managed to lose his boxers. Chuck was standing, in what used to be his tidy room, buck naked. Shit.
Remembering suddenly why his room was in tatters Chuck slapped the phone back to his ear. "Sorry, had a bit of trouble getting to the phone. It was a battle and the shelf almost won but I got the better of it. My boxers, somehow, fared far worse."
"That's, nice, Bartowski. Unnecessarily descriptive but informative none the less." Beckman answered.
Shit, again.
"Apologies, Beckman, obviously I was expecting someone else." Chuck responded, chagrined.
"Obviously." Beckman started, "The Director is being decidedly thick about Walker. I wouldn't normally encourage your personal brand of encouragement but I'm suggesting it to you now. Don't kill him please." Beckman stated, ending her call.
Chuck was losing his patience with the CIA as a whole. Why did they always cling to their delusions of power? Couldn't they just go silently and quietly into the night? What made them all so entirely combative about everything? Chuck didn't have the time to worry about the Director at the moment. Sarah's plane would be landing in a few hours and Chuck was determined to be there when she landed, in the terminal, at the door of the plane when it opened.
Chuck hit redial on the phone.
"Chuck?" Sarah asked furtively, thinking it might very well be Lisa again.
"Hey Sarah, it's me." Chuck responded, sensing the trepidation in Sarah's voice. He felt the sudden urge to confirm his identity and assuage whatever feelings were affecting her.
"Lisa isn't allowed to answer your phone anymore Chuck, I can't go through the emotional roller coaster that woman sends me into."
"Done. When does your plane land?" Chuck knew when the plane was going to land. He was at the same moment on the computer upping her flight's landing order, bumping it to the top of the landing list priority. He needed to change the subject and the question was an easy bridge to something else.
"I'm landing in two hours. I can't wait to see you." Sarah responded, almost giddy with anticipation.
"Great, I'll be there."
"Lisa's not coming with you?" Sarah asked more for confirmation than anything else. She wanted Chuck alone for their reunion. Lisa was a wild card she would allow herself to tackle later. Sarah needed this to work. There were already too many hiccups being ironed out this morning.
"No, Sarah, she'll be at home." Chuck confirmed, picking up on the thinly veiled request. "You two can fight it out some other time. You're all mine tonight. Just mine. I'm not sharing you anymore."
"My plan exactly." Sarah paused. "Chuck, what are you wearing?"
Chuck realized he was still quite nude and blushed deeply despite the fact that he knew Sarah couldn't see him.
Chuck decided to play along. "Nothing."
"You... What are you expecting Chuck?" Sarah teased.
Losing his nerve, having never played this game outside of the schoolhouse or a mission, Chuck decided the truth would have to do. "Oh, uh, well, actually I was interrupted by a phone call when I was getting dressed and I almost lost a fight with the furniture in my room trying to answer it. I won, but my boxers lost. So, I'm in my room talking to you, naked. Go figure."
"Chuck, that's not how this game is played. You know that. Don't you teach seduction?" Sarah chided playfully. "I am wearing a short, tight skirt that barely covers anything. I'm getting stares, but that's likely because anyone walking by me is practically getting a show of my chest, I mean this thing is practically see-through...and not buttoned up all the way." Sarah smiled demurely as she heard a throaty grunt come through the receiver.
"That's all I'm wearing Chuck, besides my shoes. Nothing else. Should I describe anything else for you? Maybe how we're spending this evening? Sarah pressed.
"ahem...uh...uh...No, Sarah that's enough. Please... save it for when I can actually see you, otherwise I'll have wasted some of my effort before you even get here." Chuck said struggling to gulp down the lustful thoughts filling his head.
"Torture, Sarah Walker, you're pure torture." Chuck added after a second.
"Only an hour and a half left, Chuck. Are you ready? I am. Very, very ready. We might not make it out of the terminal."
"Sarah..." Chuck pleaded. "Sarah I'm hanging up now. I can't take any more. I've grown another leg. I see you soon. I'll call you when the plane lands."
"Are you sure Chuck, I've got more..." Sarah said, not ready to let up on him yet. Sarah knew he wouldn't hang up on her till she said good-bye. "Oh crap, one of my buttons came off. This slit in my skirt is longer now. It's not hiding anything anymore."
"Jesus, Sarah stop, please." Chuck said, begging now.
Taking pity on him Sarah decided to let him go. "Ok, Chuck, I'll talk to you when I land."
"Thank you Sarah, I will. Bye." Chuck said breathlessly.
Chuck looked down at his lap. Great, way to control yourself Bartowski. Down boy.
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A/N: I'm evil, I know. One more. If I get enough reviews I start my sequel. I'm going to need a hell of a lot of them though. Cheers.