DISCLAIMER: I don't own Chuck.

Morgan pulled out of the Buy More parking lot, his hands fiddling with the radio. He didn't know if he should take Highway 5 east. It had been incredibly slow during his earlier travels.

He sighed, feeling sick to his stomach. Still having no idea what was happening. After the first ignored call, every following call he had placed to Chuck had gone straight to voicemail. Having given up on Sarah after the first try, he had been debating whether to drive to the Woodcomb's, or to Chuck and Sarah's.

The local news station crackled through the car speakers.

"-rafic news. Try to avoid Highway 5, where a minor accident between a pickup truck and minivan is slowing the drive time. Officials on the scene say that a 47 and a 34 year old, both males, were taken to hospital. Now onto weather, Terry?"

It was sunny, it was always sunny; he turned it off.

His mind was spinning. 47 year old? Mini-van? No, don't jump to conclusions, Morgan. It's just a coincidence. Don't jump to conclusions; he silenced himself with a deep breath.

Too late.

The forest green Toyota hatchback plastered with a big yellow "BM" pulled an extreme U-turn in front of many distressed drivers. The sound of screeching tires made him wince. Disobeying traffic laws was very hard for Morgan.

"I'm sorry! SO SORRY!" Morgan waved his free hand frantically and looked around at the cars swerving to avoid him. His grip on the wheel tightened. "It was very necessary!"

Westside Medical Center was in the opposite direction.

"Hauf! You're incompetent! Why did you send a monkey to get him?" Radner Hauf struggled to pull together a proper response. He would readily agree, the thug he had hired had a rock for a brain, but he also thought Bartowski would have been easy prey. It was a simple kidnapping job.

"His services, they vere.. eeh.. cheap?" He grunted in broken English. Wrong answer.

BAM

Hauf let out a roar of pain, and collapsed to the ground clutching his foot,

"You were hired to bring him to me! YOU WERE NOT HIRED TO HIRE PEOPLE!" His employer took a breath. "Bring him to me, no mistakes this time."

"HOW YOU VANT ME TO DO DAT, VIT A HOLE IN ME FOOT?"

BAM

His shriek tore through the air.

"Guess you have to do it with two holes now." A pause. "Oh, and I hope you cleaned up any evidence that was lying around."

Hauf rasped. "It's alveady-" Pant. "-been dealt vith… bastard."

"Watch your words, Hauf." The gun was shaken in his face. "Wouldn't want to make it three."

Even though the seconds were passing like hours for her, she recognized that it'd not been long since the officer left, when he reemerged from the emergency ward. He made a beeline towards the receptionist. Sarah strained her ears.

"Mr. Garth was asleep, so I'll come back another day." Before the receptionist could respond, he turned his back on her. Pulling his cap low on his head, he swiftly exited the waiting room.

Sarah stood quickly, starting towards the ward. She had no hesitations about interrupting Garth's beauty sleep. She would enjoy it.

The crackling of a speaker stopped her war path.

"Code Blue. Emergency Department. Room 420. Code Blue. Emergency Department. Room 420."

There was a flurry of movement as the doctors and nurses in the room hurried through the doors.

What? But I haven't touched him yet.

"Sarah!" There was a flash of dark hair before the wind was knocked from her lungs. Ellie clutched her in a vice-like grip, restricting any recoverable airflow. Ellie's tears wet her shoulder, where she had buried her head.

Sarah wheezed, "Ellie!"

"Oh sorry," she sobbed, loosening her grip. She gives her a watery smile. Sarah tried to return it, but had a feeling she failed miserably. Ellie guides her to a seat. They were silent, taking comfort in each other's presence.

She and Ellie had formed a sisterly bond over the years. It had delighted both of them when they reunited in person, seven years ago. The long phone calls they had shared when Ellie lived in Chicago hadn't done justice to their friendship.

Sarah starts, "I haven't been told any-"

Ellie speaks in a hushed tone, but loud enough to stop her. "He had a heart attack… I'm so sorry Sarah."

Her breath catches in her throat and she can't find the words to reply. Ellie clasps her hands.

"Devon was called in to consult. That's what he's doing now… He should be out-"

"NO. Chuck was attacked. But not by a… a… not a heart attack!" The words burned her tongue. It was much easier to comprehend Chuck being beaten up, but a heart attack? That meant something was wrong with him. "You said it yourself! While he was on the phone, he was attack!" Ellie looked guilty.

"Sarah, I.. I don't know what happened… All I know is that Devon was called in to treat a heart patient, the patient being Chuck…"

Sarah finally succumbed to her emotions. The wall she had been building since Ellie's first phone call crumbled and the tears rapidly came to the surface. Her world became a blur of sad faces and bad news, bleak, cold, and depressing. Only one person could bring the warmth back now, and she had no idea how much longer she'd have to wait to see his happy face.

Her body fell limp in the chair, hands covering her eyes. Ellie gathered her up in her arms.

"We'll know how he is soon enough."

Another day, another death. He waddled up to reception, a stretcher and empty body bag in tow.

"-Lo' Sherry. I got a call…" Sherry looked up from her computer and nodded her head in acknowledgment.

"Room 420." She replied grimly.

"Thanks, Sher," he muttered back.

His head felt like someone had given him a swirly. He hadn't been the recipient of many, but he had saved Morgan from more than he could count. Despite his physical symptoms (swurneled, Morgan's word for the post-swirly hangover), he was feeling rather chipper.

Death was incredibly pleasant, assuming he was dead, if all had to do was live out some of his most favorite memories. Yes, he could do this for eternity. Maybe it was purgatory? It just seemed too nice for death. Who knows.

The heart-wrenching shriek of a child tore through his thoughts. His child. A parent just knew.

He cracked his eyelids open. This time, he looked upon a ceiling he was more used to. Their master bedroom's ceiling in his house of thirteen years. He looked down, as an all too familiar hand started patting his chest.

"Chuck, go see." Sarah mumbled into his shoulder. He chuckled. How was he supposed to go, if she refused to release him from her grasp. Gently detaching her warm body from his, he heard her groan in disappointment. Make up your mind woman.

His feet touched the floor, his familiar soft and comfy bedroom floor. He blindly located his pair of slippers and wiggled his toes into them. They were a birthday present from Sarah. He remembers fondly, how he had gotten her a blue, fuzzy pair of her own, the following Christmas. She still wore them.

The bedroom door gently latched into place. His newborn son's cries were louder in the hall. At least he didn't have to worry about him waking up his siblings. Both his girls were deep sleepers, and Chuck required a marching band to get them to school every day. He had to make do with Sarah's motherly screaming.

He had the same feeling that he had last time. This had happened before. It wasn't as specific a memory, but he knew that he had already made the steps he now took down the hall. What a terribly odd existence I am leading.

He peaked into the twin's nursery. Sure enough, Emma was oblivious to her brother's howls. He approached Stephen's crib. His son's face was bright red and scrunched up, tear streaming down his cheeks. He slipped his hands under his chubby arms and lifted him above his head.

"Hey little buddy… hey what's wrong? Are you dirty?" He took a whiff, and was relieved to just smell baby powder. "Nope. Oh…hush now…" He brought him to his chest, his head cradled in the nook of his arm. "You're hungry eh? Let's go get you a bottle…"

He softly padded down the stairs, his son quieting some, enjoying the ride.

He missed this. He missed holding his and Sarah's little creations close to his heart. He loved playing with his kids now, without a doubt, but he still missed this.

The kitchen light switch was found with ease in the dark, having located it so many times before. He shifted the bundle to one arm as he pulled the fridge open.

"Formula, formula, formula, bingo!" He snatched a bottle form the door and shut the fridge. He stuck it in the microwave.

"Now I know it's not as good as when Mommy gives it to you, but there's some things Daddy just can't do." He tickled Stephens tummy and he gurgled happily. "Oh yes there is! Yes there is!"

Ding!

"Dinna, ma petit Bartowski, is served!" He flipped the bottle over and placed it in Stephen's mouth; after checking the temperature of course. Stephen fussed and tried to push it away.

"Oh I know, I know. It's not fair that Mommy can do special things with her body parts that Daddy can't, but give it a try Stevie." Stephen relented and took the bottle. He quickly discovered how delicious it was, sucking it greedily. Chuck smiled.

Once he was wiped, and burped, Chuck darkened the kitchen and started upstairs. Stephen's head was lolling with exhaustion and he was soon asleep on his shoulder. Chuck traversed the hall carefully sidestepping the creaks and squeaks he knew lay hidden in the floor.

He edged into the nursery and tip-toed to his son's crib. Steady… steady… Gentle as a lamb, Chuck laid him down.

"Now you sleep through the night mister," he whispered, before placing a kiss on his forehead. He closed the nursery door silently, a skill he mastered long ago; although his daughters weren't light sleepers, his wife happened to be a trained ninja assassin who could sleep with her eyes open if she wanted to. Or so she claimed. He wasn't sure whether he believed her.

"Prove it."

"I shouldn't have to."

"Well then I don't believe you."

"Chuck! Have some faith in me!"

"It's not possible."

"Yes it is, I've done it."

He slipped into the still warm bed beside her. Instantly, as if they were oppositely charged magnets, her arms were around him, her head resting on his shoulder.

"Everything all right?" Her voice was muffled by his shirt.

He snakes an arm around her shoulders.

"Hmm… It's perfect," he whispers into her hair.

Yes, he could definitely do this for eternity.

Author's Note:

Don't get too used to the fast updates. Probably gonna slow down.

JR