A/N: "No week delay?" I hear you ask. well, no. There are a couple of reasons, one of them being that this chapter had been done for a week now, just sitting there. But the more important reason is because this week will be a ridiculously hectic one for me and I don't know when I will find time to write. So I figured that I'd throw it up and when things will (inevitably) become a bit too much (in studying and doing projects for school and what not) I can look at the reviews and get a smile on my face. Weird reason? Maybe, but in the end, you people profit!
Once again, a few thanks before you get to the chapter. First off, thanks to you, the reader for still sticking along. A massive thanks to everyone who takes the time to review this tale. I think readers truly underestimate how nice it feels to get a review, so please, even if it's just to let me know you enjoy the story, I urge you to tell me so. They're the only way for me to guess if people care at all and that's why I value them so much. A huge amount of thanks goes out to ShinyJayne19, for beta'ing and generally brightening my day when I'm down. Enjoy the chapter.
Disclaimer: Don't own Chuck, Scrubs or any sort of book with medical information. I do watch a boatload of medical shows though, so when people ask if there's a doctor around, I usually raise my hand!
The Good Samaritan, Chapter 3
The Awakening
Recovery room, Washington Hospital Center
Wednesday, December 15th, 2004
02:38
"Hi Sarah, I'm Chuck," he greeted all smiles. His voice had gradually become less hoarse after taking a sip of water from the glass that had been deposited next to his bed.
Noting his wakefulness, Sarah mentally kicked herself. Oh crap! Did he hear all of that?
"I know," she told him somewhat tensely. Chuck looked at her, wide eyes and mouth open before letting it snap shut again. A snort escaped his lips, followed by a grin which ended in a full blown belly laugh. Both confused and unsettled by this, Sarah rushed to him.
"Chuck, are you okay? What's going on? Do I need to call a doctor?"
She felt him starting to stroke her arm while his laughing fit slowly ebbed into giggles. "Don't you worry your pretty little head about me, I'm fine… You know, if you were still alive, you would've made an amazing Han Solo."
"Huh?" was her eloquent response.
Chuck furrowed his brow. "What do you mean, huh? I mean, I know Han Solo is technically a guy, but that's semantics really. And besides, you're beautiful enough to be cast as well… anyone really."
"Uh, sure…" Sarah started, not quite sure how to approach this particular non sequitur. "But how do you mean 'if I was still alive?'"
Chuck looked at her with the same gaze he had given her a few days before. It was one of pure clarity and again she found her losing herself in the seemingly endless depths of his eyes. It lasted for a beat before he seemed content and his eyes regained their slightly glazed over state. "It's because you're an angel of course." He dropped that particular bomb with pure conviction, even managing to throw in a nod as extra emphasis, leaving the 'duh' unspoken.
Sarah's confusion was replaced by relief. She grinned when recalling how Chuck had told her the same exact thing when he was dying. He was still doped up. He probably wouldn't remember a thing the day afterwards. Apparently his 'help, I'm dying' and 'I am doped up on meds' states of mind were quite similar. "Sorry to disappoint, Chuck. I'm not an angel."
"Is that some sort of new policy?" He cocked his head adorably. "Because I'm pretty sure that they never revealed that in Touched by an Angel. Which I totally didn't watch because I actually enjoyed it… Ellie practically forced me into it. She said it was great and that I'd like it too…." As he trailed off, Sarah merely raised an eyebrow at the drivel Chuck was continuously spouting. It actually seemed like he started to sweat a bit. He acquiesced. "Fine, okay, I watched it because I sorta liked it. It was stupid, not the show, but keeping something like that from an angel anyway, it wasn't like you didn't know already. But please…" he drifted off a second time, conspiringly beckoning her forward. Sarah felt shivers as his warm breath gently breezed over her ear. "Don't tell anyone."
Sarah snorted. "I won't, don't worry." She pulled back, but Chuck gripped her wrist. He has a surprisingly strong grip for someone who has only just gotten over a near-death experience.
He looked worried. "Are you sure you won't tell? I still have somewhat of a rep to protect and if this got out they'd do something drastic like revoke my nerd authority or at the very least take my man-card. I don't want them to take my man-card, I'm still single," he finished on a somewhat desperate note.
"I promise that I won't tell anyone that you watched and liked Touched by an Angel, Chuck," she assured him.
He released his grip on her wrist before sinking back in the bed. "Good," he sighed. "I know that angels are usually very trustworthy, but I had to be sure y'know."
"It's better to be safe than sorry," she smiled, thinking back to the times that particular statement had rung true for her. "But just so we're clear, I'm really not an angel, Chuck. I'm human, just like you are. Trust me."
Chuck nodded and once again he beckoned her closer. Sarah did as he asked and this time, reveled in the feel of his breath ghosting against her ear. "Your secret is safe with me," he whispered before his eyes flicked up towards the roof. Sarah tried to stop the snort from coming out but failed miserably. She felt the corners of her mouth tug upwards as she backed off, shaking her head in mirth. "So, not-angel Sarah…" He not-quite surreptitiously winked at her. "How are things?"
She stood undecided for a moment, before shrugging and grabbing the plastic chair. She proceeded to sit down and shoot the breeze with a recent stabbing victim about her cover life, neatly interwoven with the fact that apparently she was an angel. Angels, as it turned out, were also inherently talented at accounting.
Recovery room, Washington Hospital Center
Wednesday, December 15th, 2004
03:15
"…And I'm not joking, he cried for like ten minutes," Chuck went on animatedly, using his one arm for gesticulations.
"All of that, just because of the fact that he had to fix an old computer?" Sarah asked in shock. She couldn't believe that a grown man might actually cry because the insides of a computer were old. The good news however, was that over the time Chuck had become more lucid and aware of what was going on. The bad news was that slowly but surely, the pain would return. She could see him grimacing already.
"Yeah, Morgan is quite special. Don't get me wrong, I love him like a brother… he's just a bit eccentric is all," he smiled brightly.
"I'll say," Sarah concurred. She looked at him and saw the grimace becoming worse with every minute that passed. The room was still somewhat dark, the only light in the otherwise pitch blackness emanating from the various monitors that read out Chuck's vitals. Still, they clearly illuminated his face. She noticed a small spike in his blood pressure, probably due to the increase in pain. Basic field medicine and a healthy dose of common sense told her that he should try and get some rest. As much as she was enjoying the drug-induced banter (which she hoped he would remember in the morning. He seemed to be the kind of person that was fun to tease about these things. Granted, she'd rather he forgot everything that she had divulged about herself. She didn't do sharing well) it wasn't healthy for him to be awake. "I think it's time we called it a night," she offered.
"I suppose," he said, before grabbing his bed remote and lowering it to a supine position. "Will you be here when I wake up?"
Sarah couldn't help but smile as she thought back to when he first asked that. "Of course I will be." She felt Chuck's hand searching hers and she allowed him to grab it, relishing in the comforting warmth that his palm infused in hers.
She heard rustling as Chuck pulled the covers up to his chin, before turning so that he was facing Sarah. "Sarah…"
"Hmm?"
"Thank you for being my guardian angel."
"You're welcome, Chuck."
His breathing eased out over the course of time and slowly but surely, Sarah felt her eyelids starting to droop. She contemplated releasing his grasp, but it felt too comfortable. So she softly turned the chair so it was facing Chuck's bed and laid her head on the mattress. She couldn't explain why, but she had an innate desire to tell him one more thing.
"Thank you for allowing me to be one," she whispered, and drifted off. For the first time in a long while, her dreams were pleasant.
Recovery room, Washington Hospital Center
Wednesday, December 15th, 2004
09:45
"Good morning, Mr. Bartowski," the nurse cheerfully exclaimed when she entered the room.
Sarah blinked a couple of times in confusion, before she realized what was going on. She realized she was still holding on to Chuck's hand and released it like it was on fire. Why did I grab his hand? Damn sleep deprivation is making me lose my professional judgment. Unfortunately, Chuck Bartowski was also awake, courtesy of 'overly-ambitious nurse' and he had not missed the way they woke up. His cheeks flushed an adorable red as he tried to literally disappear in the confines of his bed.
The nurse did the job she was supposed to do, checked the suturing (and even though Sarah promised not to peek, she couldn't help herself, only to be pleasantly surprised as her eyes hungrily roamed his upper chest area) and his vitals before sending in some breakfast. He was thoughtfully munching on a sandwich when his cheeks reddened again.
"Is something the matter, Chuck?" Sarah asked as she longingly looked at the breakfast tray. She hadn't been able to get a single bite down her throat ever since the incident.
"Uh, no…" Chuck said as he sneaked a look at Sarah and slid his apple over to her. "You look kind of hungry," he offered as explanation.
Gratefully she grabbed the apple. "Thank you," she replied appreciatively, before nibbling at the apple. It tasted divine, but maybe it was a combination of the hunger she felt and the gesture of Chuck. They ate in silence for a while, before Sarah decided that the jig was up. "You were blushing a few minutes ago. What was that all about?"
"I sort of remembered a few things from last night."
Sarah's eyebrows shot up. Oh no. "Like what?"
"Well, for one, you've saved my life. So… I'm not quite sure what the proper etiquette for thanking life savers is, but from the bottom of my heart, thank you. If there's anything I could ever do to repay you, you just have to ask. Granted, I could probably only repay you by helping you with computers and whatnot, but I'd be happy to do that." Well if that's the worst he got, I dodged a serious bullet there.
"Don't worry about it, Chuck." She only just held in her little outburst about the fact that it was her job. No, it's your job to complete missions given to you by Graham, a different voice reminded her. This wasn't a mission, but a random stranger on the street. You know damn well that this wasn't the job. She willed the voice to be quiet. "But I doubt that's anything to be that embarrassed about." Please say that that was what you were embarrassed about and not my little speech!
Chuck started fidgeting with the covers. "Well, I may remember that you like vegetarian pizza without olives…"
"What the… how?" Sarah began digging through her memory when it came to her. It was such an innocuous question. So what do angels eat? And she had told him that she particularly cared for vegetarian pizza with no olives. It was around the time that she had given up trying to correct Chuck and simply went with the flow. But for him to remember that particular detail hit very close to home.
"Was I not supposed to know that?" Chuck asked, his voice quiet with a hint of disappointment.
"No… I mean… I don't know. It's just that… not a lot of people know that about me and I kind of thought you wouldn't remember."
Chuck perked up. "I'm good at remembering things. Such as the fact that you're an accountant and that I…" he trailed off again, casting his eyes downwards to look at his hands, still fidgeting with his cover. "I may or may not have insisted that you were an angel last night... God that was a stupid thing to do, Sarah, I'm sorry for putting that on you. I just didn't know where my mind was and I…" he trailed off as he saw the hurt look on Sarah's face.
His words shouldn't have any effect. She had wanted him to forget after all. But when he told her that it was a stupid thing to do, all the compliments that he had paid her, it hurt. "So you didn't mean any of it?" she asked. Her voice didn't waver, which had more to do with the fact that Sarah was a quality actress than anything else.
"Really?" he asked. Sarah nodded. "I did… but I mean… I wouldn't say it out loud… because that's disrespectful and my sister has always taught me that there was more than meets the eye, but I'm pretty sure that if I hadn't been… stabbed… I would've passed out anyway, simply from you saying hello to me and… and I'm making the world's worst third impression on you."
Sarah repressed a relieved sigh and smiled. So he did mean it after all. It made her feel better, only for her to question why it did. But before she could dissect what it all meant a question popped up in her mind. "Third impression?"
Chuck held up three fingers and started ticking them off. "The first impression you got of me was when I was bleeding out on your clothes… I'm sorry about that, by the way. Just… send me the dry-cleaning bill… Anyway, the second impression you got of me was when my brain to mouth filter had taken a serious beating from the meds and well, here we are for the third impression, which is just as bad as the earlier two are… so I'm sorry about that."
Sarah had to bite her lip to keep herself from spilling the fact that the first impression he had made on her was when she did a double take at him, but as much as she thought it adorable to watch him squirm. She had no intention of entering the territory that that particular remark would bring them in. So she deflected. "It's not as bad as you think. And don't worry about the dry-cleaning. You had other stuff on your mind. Like making sure you wouldn't die for example."
Chuck snickered. "So you do have a sense of humor! I like that." He quickly groaned when he realized how it sounded. "Not like you have to impress me or something… God forbid you think you have to impress me… what I meant to say was that I like… you don't have to… I wasn't trying to suggest that we… I'm sorry," he finished, defeated. "As you can probably tell, I don't have much experience talking with beautiful women." It was followed by a wince. Obviously, the medicine had stopped working and he was feeling the full effects of being sliced open not even twenty-four hours ago.
"That's okay Chuck. I think it'd be best if you take a nap. I'll try and find some more medicine for you." That wasn't the only reason that she wanted him to take a nap. The real reason was that she was flustered. It didn't happen a lot. As a matter of fact, the last time it had happened had been the day before when the doctor asked what her association to Chuck was. But Chuck had a way about him that not a lot of people possessed. He made you want to open up. And that scared her.
"Hey, before I go to sleep… thanks for the flowers and the card." He grinned at her which she gladly returned.
"You're very welcome," she said, before turning around. She walked out and looked for a nurse. Instead she found the stray-haired doctor; her name was Elliot she remembered, sipping a cup of coffee.
"Good morning," she said. Sarah found her to be quite chipper for someone who hadn't slept in a while. She couldn't relate. While she had often gone without sleep during her days in the Agency, she still hated it if she couldn't get her regular ten hours.
"Good morning," she said slipping on her agent mask. It was surprisingly easier to do it around someone whose name wasn't Chuck. "I was wondering if you could administer some medicine to Chuck. He seems to still be in some pain and I thought it best if he would get some sleep or something."
"Uh, sure. I'll have the nurses set up a morphine drip."
Sarah blinked. "Isn't that sort of customary after surgery?"
"Usually, it is. But budget cuts are forcing us to cut back on all kinds of things and it's gone so far that we now can't afford to hook up morphine as a basis. So we hand out Vicodin, unless the patient is complaining. Usually there's a lot more bureaucratic nonsense involved than simply asking, but we're trying to better the care for our patients, not worsen it. So I'll take care of it."
Sarah nodded gratefully and walked back to the recovery room. "Chuck, they're getting you some morphine. It should help with the pain and allow you to fall back asleep."
Chuck nodded. "But what will you do? Are you going back home? It's fine if you do, totally within your right. You must be exhausted, so please don't let me keep you here. As much as I've enjoyed having you here there's no…"
"Chuck," Sarah quickly cut in, mainly to stop his incessant rambling. "Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere."
"Wow, you must have like… a ton of days off or something."
Sarah grinned. "Something like that, yes."
"Hmm, well, for what it's worth, I appreciate having someone to talk to. I think I'd go insane if I couldn't talk to someone."
"Yeah, I kind of got that impression."
Chuck clutched his chest in mock-agony and maybe a smidge of real agony as well. "You wound me miss…"
"Walker."
Chuck didn't miss a beat. "Miss Walker. You truly do."
"I'm sorry." She wasn't in the slightest.
Chuck was about to respond when Elliot walked in with a bag of morphine. "Good morning, Mr. Bartowski," she cheerfully greeted.
"Good morning," he said as a look of glee came over him once he had eyed the morphine. Elliot went to work and before long, she had hooked up the IV to the needle in Chuck's hand. He sunk back in the mattress and sighed in relief. "Thank you,"
"You're welcome," she said, before nodding politely to Sarah and leaving the room.
Sarah noticed that the drugs seemed to have an immediate effect and his eyes started to glaze over again. Before he lost consciousness however, he had time to look at Sarah with a grin on his face. "Will you be there when I wake up?"
Sarah gave him a toothy grin. "Is that still up for debate?"
"Kind of, yeah."
"Don't worry Chuck. I'll be here when you wake up."
"Thanks…" he mumbled, before softly starting to snore. Sarah got up, but not before feeling a pang that she hadn't felt in quite some time. She found him to be adorable. That was when the warning signs really started to flash for her. And this time, Chuck wasn't there to distract her. Quickly, she walked out of the room, needing to find a spot where she could recuperate.
Cafeteria, Washington Hospital Center
Wednesday, December 15th, 2004
10:38
The cafeteria wasn't crowded. There were a few empty tables that had been strategically placed throughout the area that the cafeteria had occupied. It reminded Sarah of the cafeteria in her high school in San Diego. She quickly shook those memories away. High school was not a good time for Sarah Walker, or as she had been known by then, Jenny Burton.
Quietly, she sat in one of the metal chairs around a table, mindlessly nibbling on a sandwich while running the conversations and the feelings she had felt when she was with Chuck through her mind. She had been uncharacteristically… giddy throughout her time with him. And she had opened up… to another human being. Sarah had never opened up. No, Chuck would never know what he had accomplished but there it was. Sarah Walker had connected to another human being, even if she thought he was simply asleep. But she did tell him about her fears. She had never done that, not to someone who was still breathing, whether he or she was awake or not. And she had opened up at a rate that left her frightened.
She most definitely knew the trouble that she was facing. She didn't have to be a trained spy to realize that Chuck was attracted to her. The adorable blush told her that much. And she would be lying to herself if she said that she wasn't in the least bit interested. She found herself wanting to spend time with him, learn what makes him tick. He didn't seem like the hero type, which made his acceptance of getting stabbed all the more amazing. Plus, the fact that he could joke about it struck something inside Sarah. She had never grinned as much as she had done when she was with Chuck.
Sarah hadn't ever been in love, so she didn't quite know how it would feel, if that was even the case in this situation. What she did know was that the feelings that she got when he made her laugh and the feeling that she had gotten when she thought he didn't mean all the compliments he had paid her in his drug-induced haze, were very different from what she had felt throughout her life. She had been able to correctly name all the emotions she had had so far. Pride when her father or the Director would compliment her on a successful mission. Terror when she saw her target of her Red test swirl around, clutching what she thought to be a pistol. Dread when she received her first seduction mission and elation when it turned out that it didn't involve sexual intercourse. The director had promised her that she was too valuable a talent to be given a long term seduction assignment, so she was mostly put on the job to lure the target away so other people could take over. She even got to do the interrogation herself once.
She may have enjoyed that particular assignment a bit more than strictly necessary.
But the emotion that had been most prevalent in her life had been a general sense of disgust with the human race. Slowly but surely, Sarah was turning into a misanthrope. Everyone she met had an agenda that was made to further their own cause. She had seen the vilest of vile human beings and had begun to see the world for what it truly was. Egotistical and self-centered.
She cherished her job, for it gave her the opportunity to rid the world of all the oligarchs and other assorted douche bags that inhibited the Earth. It gave her a sense of fulfillment when she could look Graham in the eye and state with pure confidence that it was done. That she had rid the world of yet another evil. It made her feel included in the world. The woman behind the curtain, making sure that every person in America could have a shot at their version of the American Dream. Sarah's dream had long since ceased to exist. Every day was just a further reminder of that fact.
But all that had changed when she met Chuck. His jovial attitude had flipped a switch within Sarah. One that she wasn't sure she wanted to have switched. Her notion of every human being, being evil in his or her own way had been shattered by him. He was stabbed and he wasn't angry, or upset. Hell, he wasn't even scared. All he cared for was to know that his sister and his friends would be okay.
Movies had overly romanticized the notion of dying people making last requests like that. Most of the time they were too busy freaking out or trying to take a last jab at the person responsible for their impending death, Sarah knew. After all, she had been the one that those people talked to last often enough. But not Chuck. He was truly selfless enough to try and make sure that if it would all go south, that if it was truly his time, that at least his sister would have some form of comfort.
It touched Sarah to her core. And it scared her. She knew she had to take her distance. She knew she had to back out of the hospital and never see him again. If not for her own good, at least for his. Even if she wanted to, which she still was vehemently denying, she could never start something with him. She could only imagine the horror of dating a deep cover spy. Sitting at home, never knowing whether or not your partner or significant other or lover had been killed in action. Never knowing whether or not he or she was screwing somebody else all in the name of the greater good.
Of course the other option was that she would resign from field duty. Cut her losses and leave the business before it killed her. Settle down; get a nine-to-five job, two point five children and a white picket fence. Her own American Dream.
She shook her head out of her crazy thoughts. What the hell am I thinking? Not even twenty-four hours after first meeting him she was already contemplating throwing her entire career away for… Oh I might as well accept it. For him.
No. She wasn't going to do this. She wasn't going to drop everything she had for him. She could do this. She was having fun with him, that much was a given. And she would continue to have fun with him... and feel normal during her time off for a change, instead of the woman with nothing to live for but her job... until she would get a new mission. She would say her goodbye and never see him again. Or he would be discharged and sent home. Either way, she could enjoy her time with him and never see him again. No heartbreak, since there was nothing there to begin with.
With a new resolve, she stood up and discarded her tray. Sarah Walker, for the first time, would have fun during her time off from missions. And after all was said and done, she would say goodbye to Chuck, thank him for the joy that he had managed to bring to her life and never see him again, before collapsing back into the only thing that had ever felt like a home to her… the CIA.
Now where is his damn family?
Receptionist desk, Washington Hospital Center
Wednesday, December 15th, 2004
11:01
Slowly, Sarah began to get frustrated. She huffed and slapped the little bell in front of her again. "Hello?" she called out. She was well aware of the fact that not everyone could instantly drop what they were doing to help her, but she'd been standing at the desk for five minutes. Enough was enough.
Once more she pressed down on the bell, the incessant ringing like nails over a chalkboard. Finally, it seemed like someone had heard her pleas and she saw an old woman shuffling from the room in the back. Sarah winced at her own thoughts. "I'm sorry for disturbing you, miss. But I would like to get some information on a Chuck Bartowski?"
The woman started tapping on her keyboard. At least something's happening now.
"I'm sorry, there's no Chuck Bartowski in our registry."
"What? How is that possible? He's lying in the ICU. He just underwent surgery. How can he not be in your system?"
"Uh…" the woman croaked and Sarah felt like hurting someone over the incompetence she was witnessing. How was it that a recently admitted patient did not have a file? "Oh, here it is," she said after what felt like a year had passed. "The attending surgeon did not know his last name and we input the new data at around five p.m."
"So… if you didn't know his last name… that means that his family hasn't been informed yet?"
"That's right," the older woman said. Sarah's hand twitched to her Smith and Wesson, only to realize that it was still lying under the pillow. I hope Chuck doesn't decide to start wandering. At the same time, she wanted to scream at the pure incompetence that had just gone up a notch.
She forced a smile on her face and thanked the older woman before stalking off. She had turned a corner when she pressed up flush against the wall and peered around the corner. Who knew? Guess I get to use some of my spy skills after all. She could only imagine how odd it looked to a random passer-by, but Chuck's family deserved to know as soon as possible. His sister had to fly in from Los Angeles after all. Sometimes, having eidetic memory really was a blessing. She grinned as she remembered repeating that particular mantra not twenty-four hours ago. So much has happened in such a small time span.
She saw the older woman turn back into the little room that she had come out from a few minutes earlier and timed her run. It wasn't so much a run as it was speed-walking, but she still made good time. She peered through the door and heard the sounds of cupboards being opened and the unmistakable sound of an old model coffee machine. If the older woman would stay with her coffee until it was done, she had a little over four minutes. It was a Hail Mary, but Sarah had survived missions with worse odds. This seemed like a stroll in the park.
She slinked past the counter and reached the computer that the woman had been typing on. She typed in Chuck's name when a terrifying thought hit her. What if they don't have his phone number listed? If that was the case, she would have to go back to Chuck and wait for him to wake up before she could ask him. She had yet to see if he even had a mobile phone as all his clothes and belongings seemed to have mysteriously disappeared.
The search came back with a hit and she opened the result, her eyes devouring his file. She skimmed over his personal details until she found a contact number. Gotcha! She glanced over the number, before returning the computer back to its original state. She crept out from behind the counter in a crouched position, before straightening herself and walking outside into the cold Washington air with its watery sun.
Front entrance, Washington Hospital Center
Wednesday, December 15th, 2004
11:09
Remembering the number was easy enough. Actually getting the courage to press call was another matter. This is ridiculous. She had faced down the worst of the worst and yet something as simple as calling a relative terrified her. It had been an interesting two days for Sarah Walker, full of new discoveries pertaining to her own life. Most of them, Sarah would've rather not known.
She took a breath to calm her nerves and dialed. She put the phone against her ear and waited. She felt her heart pound and in that instant knew that this was the last time that Sarah herself would be responsible for delivering bad news.
"Hello?" a sleepy feminine voice asked.
"Uh, hello. Am I speaking with Ellie Bartowski?"
"Yeah, that's me."
"You're speaking to Sarah Walker. I'm calling about your brother, Chuck."
"Chuck? But he's in D.C."
"Yes, that's sort of why I'm calling."
"Did something happen to him? Is he okay?" The sleep-filled voice had dissipated and was replaced with an iron tone laced with despair.
"Actually… no." Better to rip the bandage off in one fell tug. "He's been stabbed."
"Oh my… oh my God…" she heard the woman on the other line say, gasping for air. "Is he… is he…?"
"No, no… he's alive. I was there when it happened, and I managed to hold him stable long enough so that the paramedics could save him."
"Oh thank God," she heard Ellie say, before a choked sob escaped her throat.
"I think it's best if you come to Washington as soon as possible. I'm not quite sure how long he'll be in the hospital but it's probably for the best if you come down anyway."
"Oh… oh God, of course. We'll be on our way. Is there some way we can get in touch with you again?"
Sarah rattled off her phone number and promised Ellie that she would pick them up from the airport before closing the connection. She pocketed her phone and turned around before it went off again. The scowling face of Director Graham peered back at her.
"Walker, secure."
"Graham, secure. Congratulations, Agent Walker. We have a new mission for you. We'll be sending you to Poland. It promises to be a long one. Please be at my office at 20:00 tonight, so we can sort out the mission details."
Sarah smiled. She had made a promise to herself. The moment Graham would call, she would leave. That's what she said… no, that's what she made herself promise. She looked back at the hospital as it loomed over her and for the first time in her life, Sarah felt reluctance when it came to accepting orders. "Actually Sir, I'd like to take some time off. I'm sure that I have plenty of free days left."
"That's… correct, Agent Walker. You have over three months of vacation days. I suppose we could find another agent. How much would you like to take?"
"I'll let you know, Sir," she replied with her professional tone.
"Sarah," Graham started and he adopted the fatherly tone that he had so often used on her. "Is something the matter? This is the first time that you don't want to go on a mission."
"Yes Sir, everything's fine," she answered. "I just have some… personal stuff to deal with."
"Anything the Agency can help with? We need you in tip-top shape Agent Walker."
"I'll be fine," she promised. "I just… have to do this… for myself." She knew that Graham wanted to ask more details but the man seemed to be able to hold his tongue. He broke the silence with a sigh.
"Very well, Agent Walker. You know how to contact us if you want to return from your absence. But Sarah… be safe."
"Don't worry, Sir. I'll be fine." She disconnected the call and for the second time she dropped the phone in her pocket. Grinning she shook her head. Huh, made a promise to yourself and broke it within the hour. That's a new record, Walker. Somehow, she couldn't find it in herself to care very much about her broken promise. She turned around and walked back into the hospital with a smile on her face.
A real one.
A/N2: Thank you for reading. Please do leave a review, for reasons stated in my first A/N. I contemplated leaving this on a cliffhanger, but because I wasn't sure when I would be able to return to this tale, I figured I'd give it a decent place to stop for once. Once more, thank you for reading and a review goes a long way. Does it make me pathetic that I beg? Perhaps, but it's worth it. See you soon.
PS: BUABS is shaping up to be a whopper of a chapter. Well within the 20000 words is the current estimate. It'll be epic... or so we hope. Until next time.