Okay, sorry for the delay! Don't hurt me please! ;) I hope you guys like chapter 4! Wepdiggy was my beta reader as usual.
This chapter is titled "Santa Monica" after a song that I recently heard. If you want to add to the angsty feeling you get when you read these depressing fanfics than I suggest you give the song by Theory of a deadman a listen ;) It strangely fits my fanfic. Anyway, with out further ado, I present to you Chapter 4!
Like I said, I never expected to hear from my mom. I guess I had subconsciously written her off. I was happy with my dad; I didn't need another parent.
So, it all started just four days after my sixteenth birthday. I was already back into my normal routine and I was cleaning up the living room (which Dad and Morgan had dirtied up with one of their video game playing sessions) when suddenly there was a knock...
Emily jumped when she heard the familiar knuckle on wood contact. She set down the rag she was using to clean the coffee table and went to the door. Looking through the peephole, she saw it was some kind of delivery man. That's funny. I don't remember Dad ordering anything; I certainly didn't.
"Hello?" Emily said questioningly, opening the door.. This guy had to have the wrong house.
"Hey there," The delivery man replied. In his hands was a small cardboard box, which fit into the crook of the man's arm with ease. "I have a delivery for you."
Emily laughed. "I think you have the wrong house. I haven't ordered anything," she replied with finality. She knew her dad would have told her if he had purchased something.
The man shook his head. "Nope," He said defensively and read off Emily and Chuck's address. "It says here it goes to Chuck Bartowski."
Emily froze. "Sorry. Um, I'll take it. I just wasn't expecting anything." Emily began, getting ready to take the box.
She was handed the box and then the man left, running back to his van.
She closed the door and went into the kitchen, setting the box on the counter. She could only take two steps away before returning, though, and she stood there staring at it. She picked it up and looked at the address. Sure enough, it read "Chuck Bartowski". The return address read the "Central Intelligence Agency" and had its address as well. She didn't know what her father would have to do with the CIA, but that was definitely who it was from. She wanted to open it, but she knew her father would want to open it himself however.. She opted for a small workout to pull herself away from the strong urge to peek at the contents of the box.
She worked out everyday. She always started it thirty minutes before her dad came home and that always gave her time to finish and start preferred the punching bag because she exerted more energy; it also helped her think.
They'd always had a punching bag around the house for as long as Emily could remember. Probably another thing I have in common with my mom. Over the years, when she had something she liked, she just started assuming that if her dad didn't do it then her mom probably did. She was known to have little Aunt Ellie moments, however and those always made her smile.
As she started pounding the punching bag with well placed and powerful shots, a strange memory popped into her head; it was a memory she had all but completely forgotten about.
"Emily, be careful!" Emily heard her mother yell as she started to stand on top of the little rock wall the local park had installed. Emily quickly sat back down; even at barely five years she knew not to ignite the anger of her mother. She watched her mother -who was sitting on a bench nearby watching her carefully- for a moment. Emily loved coming to the park and her mother brought her frequently.
"Mommy! Help me down!"Emily cried out when she realized she had no way to get down without risking a fall.
"Stay still!" Her mother called out, running toward her. "Wait until you're older to climb this wall.," Sarah said as she reached Emily. She stretched out her hands. "C'mon, jump." She grinned.
"No!" Emily's eyes widened and she shook her head vehemently.
"Emily, I'll catch you." Sarah repeated calmly. "I promise -mommy will catch you." She clapped her hands as if that would coax Emily into to jumping. The five-year-old inched closer to the side; the ground seemed too far away. "Emily, you can do it," Sarah said, which somewhat eased Emily's fears. Her mom said she would catch her, so her mom would catch her. Emily jumped into Sarah's awaiting arms.
Sarah laughed and hugged Emily close. "Told you," she said and kissed her cheek.
Emily grinned. "Play with me, mommy!" She ran for the swings that had many people crowded around them. It wasn't until after she reached a swing and turned around that she realized her mom wasn't behind her; in fact, she was nowhere in sight. "Mommy?" Emily yelled, panic starting to enter her voice. "Mommy!" She took off back to the bench, only to find a new woman located on it. So, she ran back to the rock wall, her heart pounding in her ears and tears coming to her eyes, threatening to spill over. "Mommy!" She screamed it this time and started crying.
"Emily! What's wrong?" Sarah came and scooped up her daughter, holding her close.
"I couldn't find you, Mommy, I couldn't find you!" Emily could barely speak through her sobs.
Sarah pulled away to look Emily in the eye and said, "Emily, I promise you; Mommy will always be with you, even if you can't see me. I'll always be making sure you're safe. I love you and that is what mommies who love their girls do." She kissed her forehead and wiped away the tears on Emily cheek. "Even if you can't see me, I promise I am always watching you."
Emily remembered them going for some ice cream after that and then Sarah taking her home to meet up with Chuck. Why can't it still be like that? I mean, not the crying in the park but me knowing she loved me and was sticking around? Damn you, Sarah Bartowski!
It was then Emily realized she was crying. The raw emotions she had felt as that little five year old still caused an ache in her chest. That had been just weeks before her mom had left, leaving Emily and her dad all alone.
She knew she should have started dinner before working out and now it was too late; so she went to the phone, wiping away the tears on her cheeks and placing an order for pizza. When she was finished she got out some plates and a couple of glasses for water. Her eyes found the package again and she was again tempted to open it.
The front door creaked and Emily turned quickly, hoping her dad was home; which was not the case. She could have sworn she heard the doorknob turn and the door open. Freaky. She directed her thoughts towards dinner. I wonder what kind of pizza mom liked. She froze. What the heck? I never think things like that. She shook her head. She couldn't start getting emotional about this now just because she remembered her mom and her at the park. She had to get herself together.
She went back to the door and looked out the peephole and sighed when she realized it was nothing. She looked at the clock; her dad would be home any minute now. As she went back into the kitchen something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye. She thought she saw a person darting into the back. She swallowed and started down the hall. It was silly to think anyone was in the house she knew, but still, she had to be careful. She first peered in her room and saw everything was normal. Then she froze; she was positive she just heard something from her dad's room. Did he maybe sneak past her and get to his room? That would be like him, to try and scare her.
She crept forward, keeping herself clear of the wooden boards that squeaked. She had memorized them so she could go through the hall without waking her dad, who would jump at the lightest sounds sometimes. She peered around the door jamb of her dad's door and was prepared to see her dad, trying to scare her. But she saw no one and she sighed. I'm crazy. She shook her head, going back into the kitchen.
Then suddenly she let out a girly yelp of surprise and Chuck Bartowski roared with laughter. "Dad!" Emily huffed and went into the kitchen, shooting him a look that told him he was on thin ice. He was still laughing.
"I'm sorry, Em; but I just had to!" He said and started laughing again, following her into the kitchen. "What were you doing back there anyways?"
"I thought you had snuck in and were trying to scare me." Emily rolled her eyes as he laughed. "Anyway, there was no one in there."
"Did you see someone?" He asked; Emily could immediately tell that he was trying to keep the edge out of his voice and keep it light.
"No," Emily snorted. "Apparently I was looking in the wrong room. You are so mean!" The girl finally laughed to let him know she didn't mean it.
He chuckled and went into the hall, taking off his coat and going into his bedroom. Emily wondered if he were actually looking to make sure no one was in the house. "Are you okay, Dad?" Emily called out to ensure he heard her.
"Oh, yeah!" Chuck replied. "I'm hungry though! Where's my dinner woman?" Emily laughed; they often had playful banter like that.
"I just ordered pizza," Emily said, grabbing the package on the counter. "Dad, you need to see this." She reached the box out towards Chuck and he took it.
"What is it?" He asked, his expression turning curious.
"Its-" She decided to just let him see for himself and stop talking. Chuck's jaw dropped and Emily saw his hand holding the package visibly shake. She was going to laugh, but his expression told her that he was scared to open this. She had thought the two of them would have a laugh about it and then see it was some charity thing or something that wouldn't freak her dad out.
"When did this get here?" He asked, sinking down into one of their barstools at their small kitchen bar.
"Not too long ago. Why would they send you something?" She didn't like it when her dad didn't answer her. "Dad, why would you get something from the CIA?" She asked again. She didn't understand why it was a big deal; her father hadn't had anything to do with the CIA ever.
Chuck grabbed his pocket knife that he always kept on his belt and cut the top of the box. Opening it, he quickly grabbed the contents (a piece of paper) and unfolded it. His expression was unreadable, but quickly turned so pained that Emily gasped.
"What is it, Dad?" Emily asked; her pulse quickening.
"No," was the only response she got. He covered his eyes and dropped the paper on the counter. Emily quickly snatched it up and read the words that had caused such a reaction from her dad. Dear Mr. Charles Bartowski, we regret to inform you that Sarah Walker Bartowski was killed in...Emily jerked her eyes up to her father, who's hands still covered his eyes. She went back to reading the letter. Her mother had died just days earlier and had requested that Chuck be told if it happened. Her mother was dead?
Emily didn't know what to feel. This had not been what she'd been expecting. Her mother was CIA? When did that happen? Had she been CIA all along? Her eyes began to tearup, more at the sight of her dad on the verge of crying than the news she'd just received. She wanted to ask him so many questions, but now was not the time. She put a hand on her dad's arm. She didn't know what to say.
Chuck stood up and gently hugged Emily with one arm and then went into his room, closing the door behind him. Emily just stood there, holding the letter in the sudden silence. She suddenly wasn't hungry. She looked back at the letter, tears in her eyes. She didn't know why this made her so sad; her mother had left her! She'd forsaken her dad and Emily, so why did she suddenly want to go into her room and cry? It had to be because her father was so crushed. He still loved Sarah and now she was dead. Why had Sarah wanted them to know if she died? They'd been better off not knowing.
The pizza arrived and Emily paid for it and set it on the counter unopened. She went into her room and laid on her bed. She was actually really tired and started to drift when a random though went through her head.
"Even if you can't see me, I promise I am always watching you."
Okie dokie, so Sarah is dead ("yeah, right, duh Starbuck you already gave it away that she was coming back!" "Oh crap that's right!") okay so Chuck and Em think she's dead, which she isn't (that was for those Charah fans that might just murder me if I had made her dead, but that kinda defeats that whole story I've been building hasn't it? Its elementary, Dear Watson! (Okay, shutting up now ;) ). Remember to review, cause if I find out you read this chapter and didn't review then flying monkeys will attack you tomorrow...and I mean it :P