DISCLAIMER: I don't own Chuck. Do you get the message yet?

Beep.

The paramedic kept snatching glances at her. She really wanted to smash his nose into his brain. The ambulance hit a bump in the road, and she lurched forward, her hand snatching onto the handle on the stretcher, her other hand clutching Chuck's, like it was her lifeline. She hated this. The pervy paramedic; the hard bench she was sitting on; the non-existent leg room, her knees jammed up against Chuck's stretcher; the incredibly jarring car ride-

Beep.

And that. The constant beep of the heart monitor, a reminder that she was on her way to West Side Medical Center with Chuck, unconscious and bloody. She looked up, about to question the paramedic about Chuck's status. Her mouth slammed shut and a scowl formed on her face. He was ogling her. It's not like what she was wearing was revealing or anything, but it was form fitting. Obviously she hadn't taken the time to change from the simple tank top she had been wearing at home, before jumping in the car to find out if her husband was still alive.

Beep.

Her phone starts trilling. People chose to call her at the most inopportune times. She shoots a murderous glare at Pervy the Paramedic, and returns to her phone. It was Morgan. How was she supposed to explain why she was in the back of an ambulance with Chuck, if she didn't know? She just couldn't deal with him right now. It would be easier to not tell him anything until she could tell him the full story. Despite her reasoning, it was still hard to drown the guilty feeling she got as she clicked "Ignore". Morgan deserved to know how Chuck was, just as much as she or Ellie did.

Beep.

"Hey Babe! We`re back from our run." The door shut loudly behind Devon and Ann. Devon clapped a hand on his daughter's shoulder. "Let's do our stretches kiddo." he and his 15 year old started their post-run stretches, extending and flexing their limbs on the living room furniture.

Devon stood up straight and cracked his neck. "I'm gonna make a c-booster smoothie. You in?"

"Definitely." Ann slapped Devon a high-five.

"With some protein powder?"

"Awesome." She confirmed.

"Awesome." He affirmed. He made his way to the kitchen. Crouching by the cabinet, he pulled out his top of the line Super Ninja Deluxe blender. Only the most awesome of products for his family. He riffled though the fridge, grabbing a basket of strawberries, cantaloupe cubes, two bananas and some carrots. He kicked the door closed, his hands full of vitamins.

After dumping everything in the blender, Devon threw in a tablespoon of protein powder to top it off, and started it up. The food quickly turned to liquid before his enthusiastic eyes.

"This is going to be awesome!" He declared loudly to no one in particular.

Ellie jerked in shock at the suddenly loud grinding of Devon's blender. It brought her back to her senses. She had just received a text from Sarah, and for a second, all that had existed were those tiny black words on her illuminated cell phone screen.

4:10pm Sarah "Found Chuck. On way to Westside in ambulance."

Taking a deep breath she fumbled with her phone, trying to type a reply. She didn't know if that was good news or bad.

4:11pm Ellie "We'll meet you there." She desperately wanted to ask Sarah how he was, but feared the response. If Sarah had something good to tell her, she would have.

She had to collect her husband, and get to Westside Medical Center.

After living close to a decade in Chicago, Ellie had decided that ten years had been enough time away from Chuck, and the Woodcombs had relocated back home. Devon was promoted to head of Westside's cardiac program, and she continued to lead neurology research. Seven years later, they were still living in California, a short 20 minute drive from Chuck's. Her daughter Clara was 18 now, studying Biomedical Engineering at UCLA, and her second daughter, Ann was captain of the soccer team, competing with her father in athleticism.

She stood from her bed, swaying slightly, it had been a terrible day and she felt emotionally and physically exhausted. Sighing, she left the comfort of their bedroom to locate the person behind the grinding noise.

Devon was sipping a bright orange drink from a tall glass as he leaned against the counter. His hair was windswept, and his muscles flexed as he lifted the glass to his lips. A thin layer of sweat made him shine in the afternoon sun, which filtered through the blinds. He smacked his lips. "So awesome. Hey babe."

Ellie wrung her hands. Where do I start? "Devon, it's about Chuck - um, we need to go-"

"Whoa, sorry, hun, but before we go anywhere, I need to tell you. I got a call from the hospital out on our run. Heart attack patient. Gotta go in and check him out. " He gulped more smoothie. "I know it's game night, so I'll be in and out, fast as I can. Wouldn't want to delay Chuck and Sarah's fun." He smiled.

His eyes appraised her. "You don't look too awesome babe," setting his glass down on the counter, he filled another one. "This boost of C will fix all your woes!" He held out the drink, his grin stretching wider across his face. Ellie didn't respond. She was praying to a higher being that her brother wasn't the patient.

"Babe?"

Pervy the Paramedic clutched his face, the blood flowing freely through his fingers.

"YOU'RE PHYSGO!" It sounded like someone shoved cotton balls up his nose. Sarah felt overwhelming satisfaction at the sight of his pain.

The paramedics had rushed Chuck into the Emergency department upon arrival, not allowing her to follow. They weren't telling her anything about his condition, and, despite her threats of violence and liberal use of profanity, they, for the most, part ignored her and just told her to be patient. "I'm sorry Ma'am, you're going to have to wait for the on-call doctor to tell you."

She had finally relented, taking a chair in the waiting room. Bent forward, head down, her foot tapping a rhythm-less beat, she had barely noticed or cared when someone took the seat beside her.

Then he had started rubbing her back. "Heeeey you, how you doin? Bet you could use a strong shoulder to cry on, with your husband at death's door…" She really had no other choice but to break his nose.

And that's how she found herself, standing over a paramedic, his tears mingling with his blood, as he curled up in a ball on the floor, in the middle of an emergency waiting room.

She pulled back her fist, hoping to land another hit. His eyes went wide and he scrambled humorously around on the floor, before finding his footing. He ran from the room, his tail between his legs. She was actually disappointed that the distraction was gone, because she could really use a punching bag right now.

The room's other occupants were staring at her. I can't imagine why. Returning to her seat, her eyes scanned the setting. Why did hospitals have to be so stark and drab? Why did they have to remind all those that entered that this was where people came to die? Families sat, scattered around the room, looking broken and lost, standing, or rather sitting, vigil for a loved one. They sat up straighter every time a doctor passed, wondering if they bore news of death or hope.

She couldn't take it anymore.

A police officer walked passed her and approached the reception desk. He had a notepad and a file folder tucked under his arm.

"-Scuse me, I'm here to take statements from a…" The officer checked his file. "Mr. Chuck Bartowski." Sarah whipped her head around to stare at the officer. "And a… Mr. Michael Garth. They should've just been brought in by ambulance. Do you know their status?"

The receptionist stared at her computer, clicking her mouse. "Mr. Bartowski is in no shape to answer questions…. Mr. Garth, however, should be discharged later today. Room 420. Go through these double doors and take a right. The room you're looking for should be in that corridor." The officer gave his thanks and left.

Sarah sat back and thought about the accident. How was this Garth involved? Was he the other driver? Was he the attacker? If he was a bystander, did he see what happened? Sarah's mind flooded with questions that needed answers.

Well, Mr. Garth was going to get two visitors today.

To the people who said your life flashed before eyes, before you die… no… no it doesn't. There just wasn't enough time for him to view his life before he had collapsed in excruciating pain. Maybe it was because he hadn't died. Well, Chuck actually had no idea if he was alive, but he hoped he was.

It was very odd, being self-aware in a dream. Was this a dream? Maybe it was all real, and he just had to wake up. Blinked his eyes open, he saw a ceiling. It was his bedroom ceiling. His old bedroom, back at Echo Park. No this is definitely a dream. Or he had traveled through time. He sat up in his bed. The bedroom looked like it had when he was in his thirties, newly wed to Sarah. He saw some of her possessions scattered around.

Chuck was freaked out. He knew he was dreaming, but everything looked so right. Footsteps padded down the hall.

The door cracked open.

"Chuck?"

He did a double take. "Sarah?" She looked fifteen or fourteen years younger. Of course he'd never tell her that detail, when he recounted this dream to later. If there was a later.

"Chuck why didn't you tell me?" Déjà vu. This had happened before.

It had taken nearly three years for Sarah to remember herself completely, so there were many times she had looked at Chuck with a smile, a new memory resurfacing in her psyche, never lost, just hidden from sight. But this time… this was different. He will never forget the conversation that followed that question. He could place the date. September 4, 2014.

"Tell you what?"

He played along. He just felt compelled to. Not forced, but more like he wanted to. He scooted over in the bed to make room for her.

She sat on the edge, her back to him, just like it had been some fifteen years ago. "About… about having kids…" She gaze falls to the floor. The words flow from him like water; the words, pauses and hesitations he had taken.

"I… What was I…" He places a hand on her arm. "I wanted us to make that decision together, like we did the first time." She looks him in the eyes, the first time since entering the room. "You deserve to feel what you feel, not what you're supposed to feel." He brushes a stray tear from her cheek with his thum.

Sarah smiles at him and whispers, "thank you".

He runs his hand down her arm after they pull away from a hug.

"What made you remember?" There were always triggers to her memories, sometimes it had been as unimportant as a piece of toast, reminding her of a Sunday morning they had shared.

She starts playing with a strand of hair. A goofy grin forms on her face.

"Sarah?" Although he knows what she's going to say next, he can't wait for the words to come out of her mouth.

"I'm pregnant." She looked so happy. Genuinely happy. Chuck takes her face in his hands and kisses her. "Sorry I made us wait three years." He loved that she had said "us".

Author's Note:

I appreciate all and any feedback.

And to thekiller00, I think you know what Sarah's gonna do next.

JR