Echoes and Offerings

All around him, children of all shapes and sizes enjoyed Sunday at the pier. Chuck knew what it felt like to be one of them. He'd spent many a summer's day exploring this very boardwalk in his youth, accompanied by his mother, father and Ellie.

Those were happy days, even if the details were a bit hazy in his mind. His mother's features were particularly indistinct, their definition lost to the passage of time. And he couldn't easily picture Ellie, since she spent most of her time on the far side of their parents in an effort to avoid being seen with her spastic little brother. Only his father's face stood in sharp relief and, distressingly, it bore an expression eerily similar to the one from his nightmare: unperturbed, thoughtful and slightly amused.

No, Chuck revised. It wasn't like the face from his nightmare. It was the face from his nightmare. He frowned. His mind had apparently hijacked this memory for the dark vision, but it didn't seem to fit. The pier visits were the happiest of times, his father both attentive and in good spirits. Couldn't his brain have found a likeness more appropriate for pain and anguish?

Chuck grimaced. There were a lot more of those to select from.

As he pondered the possible significance of it all, darker imagery from the nightmare began to invade his thoughts, tainting memories of the pleasant family outing with flashes of spurting blood and his own desperate attempts to staunch it. Repulsed, he pulled himself back into the present with a noticeable shudder.

"What's wrong?" Sarah asked, reacting to the tug from their linked arms. Her tone was casual, but Chuck heard the underlying concern. For a moment, an effortless lie came to mind, a denial that would reassure her and free him from a painful explanation. But at the last instant he bit his lip rather than voice it.

Maybe the nightmare meant something, and maybe it didn't. Dr. Kowambe's tooth had contained Ring data. Shaw really had been alive. He'd told the truth about the former and lied about the latter and neither choice had turned out demonstrably better. But the third lie he'd told Sarah, the one he'd meant only to spare her from worry, had produced devastating consequences. At the DNI investigation, she'd stood up for Chuck armed only with her belief in him; that what he'd told her about his condition was the truth.

But it wasn't, and Shaw had burned her with it, making her look foolish in front of people who held her career and her life in their hands. When she'd turned to him, realization dawning, it had torn Chuck's heart in two. He didn't think he could bear seeing that look of shattered trust on her face ever again.

He took a deep breath and let it out audibly.

"I was thinking about the nightmare I had last night. It…it was about my father."

Sarah gave him a sad smile and Chuck felt the grip on his arm tighten. Her expression beckoned him to continue.

"I was a kid again, back in my old house, after mom left. My dad was there, and everything was fine for awhile, but…" His brow wrinkled. "Then he was shot just like… and I tried to stop the bleeding, but I had these little kid hands and I couldn't…" He looked down and dipped his head.

Sarah's eyes grew large, and she put her arm around Chuck's waist, casually guiding him to the rail at the edge of the boardwalk. He put both hands on it and stared out at the ocean. She stood beside him, stealing brief glances in his direction while surveying the beach. Her hand squeezed his side gently in support.

"The strange thing about it was when I looked up, he didn't seem to be in pain. He was even trying to tell me it was okay. That everything would be…" Chuck's voice got softer and Sarah squeezed a little tighter. "Then I woke up and remembered he was gone." Exhaling sharply, he threw his head back and shut his eyes, letting the sun warm his face and wash the images from his mind.

Sarah's hand moved to the middle of his back where it made slow, sympathetic circles.

"I think…" he said, so quietly that she didn't seem to notice at first, "I think that my brain was trying to tell me that it wasn't my fault that my father died. That even if I hadn't chosen to be a spy, even if I was still the kid he sometimes saw me as, he'd still be… I wouldn't have been able to save him."

He turned his attention back to the surf, and they watched the waves and gulls together. Just when Chuck was convinced Sarah would wait him out in silence, she spoke.

"I think you should listen to your brain."

"Hah," Chuck deadpanned, turning to her. "Where was this advice when you let them toss me into the loony bin?"

Sarah bristled. "Hey, who came back for you?"

He grinned at her, she grinned back, and with the mood lightened they both looked out at the ocean again.

"Chuck, I didn't get a chance to know your father that well, certainly not as well as I would have liked. And while recent events don't reflect well on my ability to judge a person's character," Sarah raised an eyebrow at him and Chuck couldn't help but snicker at the reference to her erstwhile boyfriend/betrayer/attempted murderer, "I think your dad was a great guy and I'm pretty sure he knew the risks of the world he— the world we live in. He'd never want you to feel responsible for what happened to him."

"I know that. It's just…" Chuck sighed. "He tried so hard to protect us, Sarah. Dad gave up everything to keep us safe from his world. He became a fugitive, hiding in solitude for years so that Ellie and I could have a shot at a normal life. And after all of that, despite all his efforts, I became a spy anyway." Chuck raked a hand through his windblown hair. "I feel like I disappointed him."

Sarah's head jerked around to face him. "No way." The force of her conviction stunned him. "Chuck, your father never stopped being proud of you. I saw it in his eyes from the first day I met him. He would have stood behind you and believed in you, no matter what you chose to do with your life." She leaned in closer, looking up at him through her lashes. "Trust me on this one."

Chuck took a deep breath and leaned back, hanging from the rail by his arms. He peeked over at Sarah only to find her still locked on to him with the same expression, awaiting his response. "Okay," he said, resignedly. Apparently satisfied, she turned back towards the ocean, leaning absently against the handrail.

When he looked over at her, she was battling the stray blond hairs the ocean breeze was blowing across her face. He watched, entranced. It was a marvel that something so simple could be so endearing, and for the thousandth time he wondered how he could possibly be so lucky.

Sarah met his gaze, her head canted to one side and her brow scrunched adorably as she took in his goofy grin. "What?" she asked, finally.

Chuck gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing visibly. "I love you," he ventured, still a little apprehensive, still a trifle unsure.

The smile she returned bloomed startlingly bright in the mid-afternoon sun and for a moment Chuck forgot how to breathe. She leaned into him and raised her face to his.

"I love you too," she whispered, and punctuated it with a kiss that made the rest of Chuck's world disappear. All that remained was Sarah's mouth on his and a tingling sensation that started in his toes and moved rapidly upward.

When the fog engulfing him lifted and he could hear the sounds of the boardwalk again, he noticed that Sarah was watching him from a few inches away, a wry smile on her lips. "Wha…?" he mumbled groggily, and she beamed ear-to-ear.

"C'mon," she said, taking his arm and pulling him away from the railing. They resumed their walk, Chuck working out the fastest route back to their bedroom; Sarah stealing sidelong glances at him and blushing when she read his mind.

"You should be with Ellie," she said, deliberately switching gears. "It's Father's Day, you know."

Chuck turned to Sarah with a blank expression, then realizing she was waiting for a response, he mentally rewound the last few seconds. "Uh… you have a father, too. Will he be dropping by to spend time with you?"

She looked away.

Chuck frowned. "I didn't think so."

"It's different for me. I'm used to my father not being around. Besides, we never really celebrated holidays even when he was." Her tone grew wistful, and Chuck could feel the mood shift. So much for racing back to the apartment.

"Do you have any idea where he is?"

Sarah's eyes glassed over, angling to the side as she recalled the last message she'd received from her fugitive parent. "Canada, as of a few weeks ago. Somewhere in Saskatchewan, I think."

"Oh." That probably meant no surprise visit with a suitcase filled with cash, Chuck thought. He could tell Sarah had already dismissed that possibility from the way her face was set. How had she put it? Be prepared for disappointment.

Sarah quirked an eyebrow suddenly, and she turned to Chuck with a smirk. "Classic deflection, Agent Bartowski."

"What?" Chuck replied innocently. "I'm not an agent anymore."

She grinned. "And another."

Chuck narrowed his eyes and tried to give her an annoyed look, but it just made her grin grow larger and eventually he couldn't maintain his composure. "Okay, fine! What do you want to know?"

"Ellie? Father's Day?" Sarah reminded him. Her face took on a more worried expression. "Chuck, have you even talked to Ellie since the funeral?"

He winced. "Yeah, about that…" A wide range of emotions crossed his face, ending in one that was almost certainly guilt. "Sarah, Dad made Ellie a promise to finally explain why he left thirteen years ago and never to leave us again. He didn't get the chance to keep that promise. And when Ellie turned to the people she most cared about—including me—she found that they'd been lying to her all along. Even worse, we'd all been part of some secret conspiracy that she alone didn't know about yet had cost us our father's life. And somehow, I don't know how, she suppressed all of that while we dealt with Shaw."

"Until the funeral," Sarah added, grimly.

Chuck put his palms to his forehead and closed his eyes. "Yeah. She was so angry she could barely look at me, much less talk to me. I don't think I've ever seen her like that. And what could I have said anyway? Would hearing more about the past three years have made her feel any better? Or would it have just made things worse? I thought that if I gave her some time, things would get better." Chuck sighed. "I guess I'm still waiting."

Sarah pursed her lips and stared ahead, silently. They proceeded down the boardwalk amidst the clamorous sounds, each absorbed in their own thoughts. When they reached the pier junction they both turned onto it without conscious negotiation.

"Ellie's got Devon," Chuck continued on seamlessly from before, "so it's not like she's by herself." He looked down and shook his head. "And besides which, it doesn't seem right leaving you alone today. We don't spend enough time together as it is, now that I've left…" he waved his hands around in the air in front of him, "you know."

She nodded and smiled sympathetically, but kept her gaze fixed purposefully ahead of them. Chuck realized what he'd just inferred and that they were both thinking the same thing. Sarah's unmasking as a CIA agent had undone three years of steadily increasing entrenchment within the Bartowski household. Her visa to Casa Bartowski had simply been revoked—by his sister.

As hot as Ellie's anger burned towards Chuck, it ran positively chilly towards Sarah. The enthusiasm his sister had previously shown for his on-again, off-again girlfriend had disappeared literally overnight. And it didn't take a spy to figure out that bringing Sarah over while his sister was still grieving her father wasn't such a good idea, especially when he'd been lost to the very same world Sarah symbolized.

Chuck sighed and changed the subject. "I miss it sometimes, you know. The team. The missions. The Castle. Even Beckman's briefings," he teased.

She laughed. "I'll make sure to tell her that." A far-away look appeared on her face. "I think she misses you too, Chuck, in her own way. The briefings aren't quite as… lively as before."

They shared a brief chuckle, then an awkward silence as Chuck struggled with what he wanted to say next.

"I miss you sometimes, too."

She turned to him then, a quizzical expression giving way to resoluteness as she put both arms around his chest and stretched up to kiss him again. "I'm right here," she scolded when their lips parted. "And I'm not going anywhere."

Chuck gave her a warm smile and she returned it in kind. For a brief instant, he caught a glimpse of the woman he'd sat with on the beach three years before, a woman whose eyes never seemed to stop searching his face for signs that he trusted and believed her. And he had the strangest feeling that whatever vow she'd made back then, whatever contract she'd made with herself to stand by him and protect him, she was making again right now. But just as quickly as it had appeared it was gone, replaced by something else—a look that told him she'd had some kind of idea.

Sarah looked around the pier until she found a bench and pulled him over to it.

"Chuck," she began, "remember when I told you that Burbank was the only place I'd ever lived that felt like home?"

He nodded.

"It feels like home because it's where my family is. You, Ellie, Devon… even Casey and Morgan. All of you are my family now."

He nodded again, and when it didn't seem like enough he added, "I get that." Sarah beamed, and Chuck could tell his casual acceptance of her new status meant a lot to her.

"Well, one of the things that families do for each other is make personal sacrifices. Like when Ellie gave up her free time for a job so you could go to Stanford, or when you spent two years of back pay so she could have a proper wedding."

"Oh-kay, sure, but..." Sarah raised an eyebrow at his interruption and Chuck shut his mouth with a contrite smile.

"I know that Ellie and I…" Sarah hesitated, searching for the right words. "I know she's hurt by what I did – what I had to do. I'm not sure she'll ever forgive me, but I'll do anything I can for the chance that she might."

Quite sure his bafflement was showing on his face, Chuck chanced a question. "What are you saying, Sarah?"

"Chuck, I want to give Ellie something, something of great value to me. A sacrifice of sorts. But there's only one thing I can give her that she'd care about. It's the most precious thing I have, the most important thing in my life – it's the time I spend with you."

Chuck blanched. "Are you saying you want me to spend the already too few hours we have together with Ellie?"

Sarah shook her head. "No, no… not all of them. Just some of them." She winced at the pained expression on Chuck's face and reached out to cover his hand with hers. "I'm willing to make this sacrifice because it's the only way I can think of to prove how important she is in our lives." She pulled back, sitting more erect. "How important she is to me."

Chuck looked away, his aversion to reducing the already meager time he spent with Sarah reigning dominant in his mind. "It's not just your sacrifice," he said at last.

"I know," she lamented. "But Chuck, we have to fix this. We can't go forward in our lives with Ellie and I estranged this way. We have to start finding common ground, something we can build a friendship on. Unfortunately, right now the only thing we have in common is that we both love you."

Chuck looked up into a pair of bright blue eyes locked onto his own. The woman in front of him was fierce, determined, persuasive and, as always, ready to make personal sacrifices for the greater good. She was every bit the Sarah Walker he fell in love with. If she was ready to do this for the sake of his family, how could he refuse her?

He turned his eyes skyward, breathed out a long sigh and sagged backward onto the bench. "You realize you make it almost impossible to argue with you when you look at me like that, don't you?"

"So you'll do it?" Sarah asked, the corners of her mouth rising in anticipation of his answer.

After a beat, he sighed again and nodded. "Sarah, do you honestly think this is going to make a difference? I mean what could I even say to convince her how awesome you are that isn't classified or, you know," Chuck dropped his eyes, "something you told me in confidence?"

Sarah gave him a hard stare and Chuck could sense her protective walls starting to rise. It was what she always did when her past came under scrutiny. But this time something surprising happened—she blinked, swallowed, and set her jaw. "Tell her anything you need to, Chuck. I trust you." And she even managed a taut smile.

Chuck's eyebrows almost reached his hairline. "Really?" He felt his muscles tense involuntarily. Any moment now she was going to knock him off the bench and ask him if he was out of his mind. He was sure of it.

But while she definitely looked like she wanted to jump out of her own skin and run for it, she eventually nodded slowly and stretched the smile a little wider. "Really," she said through clenched teeth.

Chuck kept staring at her in awe until he noticed Sarah was looking at his mouth and he realized he had forgotten to close it. She snorted a laugh when he snapped it shut.

"Chuck, I know you. If anyone could possibly square things between Ellie and I, well… it's you."

He grinned in response. "So, when does this start?"

Sarah stood, reaching out her hand. As he took it, she said, "How about right now?"

[A/N Part II: Since this is part of the Season 4 Premiere Anniversary Challenge, all four chapters have been posted at once. No waiting!]