A/N (aerox): Happy day of Dexter everybody. It's Sunday which means that yet another epic episode of Dexter will air. Incidentally, it's also Chuxter day, which is our own day of festivities. In this case, we celebrate by posting a chapter and then slicing up a random guy that we picked up off the streets. After that, we watch Dexter and read the reviews so we can go to bed with a smile on our face. Shame our holiday is only once every x amount of weeks :(
On to more important matters though: Holy bejeezus, this chapter should be titled: "Watch aerox procrastinate for a month." The lateness of this chapter can be wholly blamed on me. First things first: this is only half of the original chapter three. But due to a sudden shift in the tone of this chapter, we thought it better to cut this one in half. Does that mean that chapter 4 will be faster? Yeah. We don't know how much faster, but it definitely won't be a month. The way we see it, this is "book one" from our series aptly titled: "A Little Messed Up." We're still in the prologue section of said book but we'll be out of it by the next chapter. We hope you enjoy this chapter. Oh and just FYI, finish the entire chapter before reviewing ;)
As a final note: A lot of people seemed to be surprised that the CIA and NSA knew about Frost's death. The way we justified the decision for them knowing was simply due to the fact that at the time of her death, she was still a CIA agent and as such we deemed it logical for the CIA to know why their top agent suddenly wasn't responding to calls anymore. The reason that Sarah and Casey were told was because it directly correlated with their mission. Chuck freaked out and the bosses deemed it necessary for them to know why that was the case and that there was a chance it would happen again.
DISCLAIMER: Don't own Chuck, Dexter, Toyota or Subway. ShinyJayne19 got food poisoning off of Subway, so we don't want them anyway.
Chuck didn't really know what to expect from the two spies, if anything at all. Their collective response to his little misadventure in Moscow as a child was a bit unnerving, even for him. It suddenly felt like six shades of Hell in the hotel room. Now he was very aware of how Agents Walker and Casey were currently staring at him, and how their initial impressions of him had changed at the drop of a hat. Sarah had been the first to voice her opinion, shaking her head while she gave him the strangest, most pitying look he'd ever seen. Chuck still had difficulty shaking off her stormy gaze, as they'd yet to part from his. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't make himself leave.
Hindsight was always 20/20. If Chuck were to have known earlier that he was going to be stuck in an unwinnable situation like this, killing the feds opposite of him would've been a much more appealing idea rather than letting them live. Of course that would've meant the jig was up; he'd have to run and watch his back constantly. But at least he'd be free to fulfill those dark urges without prejudice or distractions.
I made a huge mistake.
When the silence became too unbearable, Chuck decided it'd be wise to feign ignorance. Maybe it would buy him an excuse to avoid any further altercations incase either Sarah or Casey got too nosy about his traumatic childhood. Some things were better left in the past. Buried. Never to be spoken of again.
He shifted awkwardly on the balls of his shoes and asked, "What?"
Sarah hesitated. "How come you didn't...why didn't you tell us?" she asked, hurt evident by the slight waver in her voice.
Because I was trying to avoid this very uncomfortable conversation, now quit staring at me like I'm some kind of lost puppy.
His annoyance piqued. "Does it matter? I am who I am, and nobody can change my history. I've accepted what happened and moved on the best I could. So excuse me if I am in the wrong to assume how completely unnecessary it'd be for two complete strangers to know how fucked up my life is."
"But I—the CIA, could help you," she insisted. "We have some of the best psychiatrists in the field. I'm sure that I would be able to-"
Chuck held up his hand. "I appreciate the offer, I really do. But I already tried therapy, and I can assure you that I'm much better at dealing with my baggage on my own." Nope. "As long as there are less instances of where there's a gun pointed at my face, then I think I'll manage."
He watched Sarah undergo a variety of facial expressions; all passing by like the ripples on a lake. She finally settled on a peculiar scowl, and was about to retort when her eyes lost focus on Chuck, darting for the nightstand instead. There rested a copy of that day's newspaper. It was opened to the obituary section. A small clipping of Bryce Larkin was pictured alongside several other victims who had died in a recent bank robbery. Chuck had read the article earlier, but as usual, his emotions never registered.
Sarah however, was a different matter. She wordlessly brushed past him, making a swipe for the paper. In her shaky hands, she devoured the writing until Chuck saw her lips mouth what she'd been reading like it was impossible to believe. Her eyes were misting by the time she finished. She almost scrunched the paper in her grasp before stalking to the computer on the bed. Once again, she entered the now familiar code in the keyboard and waited. Her face displayed the same blank expression that Casey's did, but it was showing cracks at the edges. A vibration of the lips, a twitching nose. Agent Sarah Walker was close to the breaking point. Chuck had to fight a smirk as he saw the telltale signs of emotional despair on her face.
The screen flared to life and the faces of Director Graham and General Beckman appeared respectively. Like they hadn't moved an inch since they disconnected earlier. Do they seriously just sit in the same position the entire time on the off chance that one of their agents try and call in?
"Yes, Agent Walker?"
Chuck was impressed by how well she could keep composure. "With all due respect, Sir. Why was I not informed of Bryce's passing?"
The Director sighed. "Agent Walker, your fraternization with Agent Larkin made you the perfect candidate to retrace his steps. You knew how he thought. But we were also well aware of the fact that the knowledge of his passing may have had adverse effects on your mental health. That's why we chose to keep it quiet."
"I… see," she replied coolly, lip twitching into a forced smile. "Thank you for thinking about my feelings, Sir. That was a very kind thing to do." Her biting sarcasm nearly caused Chuck to burst into laughter.
"Agent Walker, we tried to keep this from you for your own good. You have to understand that…"
"Thank you, Sir," Sarah said again, closing the connection without a proper farewell. She quickly turned away and started absentmindedly nibbling at her nails, trying to keep the tears at bay.
Chuck was bored by her sudden vulnerability and slightly unsettled as well. He much rather be in the presence of Sarah when she was feisty. He liked the fire. It awakened something sinister within him. And to vicariously feed off her anger was as close as he'd probably get to actually being able to kill somebody these days.
Unlike him, Casey seemed to be enjoying his partner's anguish a bit too much. Chuck feared and yet anticipated with glee for what would surely come next. He could already feel the beast in his belly squirm and tear its claws against his insides. It wanted blood. Or whatever could come close to it.
"For what it's worth, I enjoyed shooting the traitor," smirked Casey. He raised the cup of liquor to his lips and gave a Sarah a polite nod before taking a sip.
Thank you for poking the bear, Major. It was obviously the wrong thing to say, but what could you do? Casey apparently did not care and neither did Chuck. And I keep thinking that I'm the tactless one.
Sarah swiveled around, her eyes blazing with a raging fire. Chuck was enraptured with the way that every part of her body seemed to tense up, poised to strike. "It. Was. You?" she growled deathly low.
Casey remained smug. His look was downright infuriating. It was practically asking for Sarah to pummel it to mush. If the roles were switched, Chuck would've done a lot worse if he ever came face-to-face with the man who murdered his mother. Sarah's self-restraint was disappointing. She marched to the table where Casey sat, and slapped the glass out of his hand. It hit the wall and shattered to millions of pieces. Before Casey could react, she sprung. Her knee was about to connect with his gut, but a fast deflection caused her attack to fail.
While the two seasoned agents proceeded to launch punches and kicks at each other, Chuck moved somewhere less in the way and more comfortable. He sat on the bed, suddenly wishing for a bag of popcorn. It was like being a spectator at a tennis match. But it was thankfully less boring and more violent. His eyes continuously kept track of the fluid movements of Sarah. He felt like he was watching a dancer as she spun around her axis, managing to land some good hits. Casey however was holding his own as well.
At the moment, he had the blonde spy in a tight embrace. Sarah squirmed for her release, and with a lucky head butt, she knocked them both into the wall, right into a picture frame. More glass rained to the floor while the brawl commenced. There was no real progression and Chuck tilted his head, frowning.
Would it be weird if I just left?
Bored again, he grabbed the newspaper Sarah had crumpled up. He flattened it out before idly flipping through the pages, the sound of the still raging fight echoing throughout the room. Chuck crossed his legs casually and turned to the sports section. Are you kidding me? The Angels go the playoffs again, and the Dodgers lose out? Grimacing, he folded the newspaper to the front page. Apparently, General Stanfield's speech was an enormous success. It better have, it's not like I just saved his ass from being blown sky-high or anything.
After skimming the rest of the article, a chilling thought came to him. Wasn't he supposed to break the two quarreling agents up? What would be so wrong if one of them ended up dying? He lifted his gaze from the paper to the now demolished room. It was like a tornado hit. He sighed miserably, standing up while calculating the risk of getting injured if he were to intervene. It was substantially high.
The things I do to preserve my cover.
"Guys, stop!" Chuck shouted, before jumping in the middle. He held both arms outstretched like he was trying to part the Red Sea or something equally ridiculous. As expected, he was on the receiving end of a rather fierce punch from Sarah. Casey had taken a defensive stance so at least he didn't get double-teamed. He saw the look of shock on Sarah's face as she desperately tried to pull back. But the damage was already done. Chuck's chest caved and he collapsed onto the ground with a resounding thud. Wheezing, he faintly heard a gasp and then silence.
Chuck couldn't believe it. He'd been bested by Sarah Walker again. First from her surprise ninja attack and now this. Both times ended with a devastating punch to the same exact area. There was definitely going to be a bruise there tomorrow.
At least they stopped.
"Look at what you've done, Walker… you hurt the asset," Casey deadpanned. He was barely panting despite the beating he withstood. Chuck squinted through his half-lidded gaze and caught the glare that Sarah was sending to the burly agent. He felt delightful shivers crawl beneath his skin.
She's terrifying.
"Come on, Chuck. We're leaving." Sarah said between clenched teeth. It didn't take a genius to figure out that she was emotionally on edge, teetering on the edge of the black abyss that Chuck usually found so enticing. So he dutifully scrambled to his feet and ran after her as she headed for the door. Before leaving, he could hear a decidedly unhappy grunt come from Casey before the door slammed shut.
I'm pretty sure that when I invariably end up going to hell, part of my eternal torture will be exactly like this car ride.
The silence was deafening. Sarah was using the last of her efforts to not break down and it made for some amusing facial expressions. Her jaw was clenched and once or twice Chuck swore he had heard a sniffle, but he decided it'd be impolite to taunt her. So he stayed quiet. The only sound was that of the engine purring. Though Bryce's death wasn't the only elephant in the rather cramped sports car. Sarah and he had some unfinished business. He knew she was just dying to ask him more about his youth. The empathy shining in her eyes was enough to draw that conclusion. Chuck appreciated that she was at least trying to be respectful after his rejection. Yet while it was kind of sad to keep her so emotionally invested, it was also sweet, delicious justice all the same.
The city zipped by the windows and Chuck boded his time. If it was up to him, not a single word would be spoken and he would simply dive into bed and get a decent night's rest. He actually started to think he might be right and he could simply sit back and enjoy the uncomfortable silence.
Of course, he'd been wrong before.
"I'm sorry for punching you," Sarah softly admitted.
"Don't worry about it," he said, waving her apology away.
"No, I should've noticed you. It was unprofessional and it won't happen again."
"Okay… thanks for the apology even though it's not necessary." He shifted in his seat and looked at Sarah again. He saw her chewing her lip, anxious to ask a question or make a comment, but was too afraid to invade his privacy again. At some point he figured she'd eventually crack. He saw her surreptitiously sneak a few glances but other than that, her full attention was on driving. That was fine with him.
"Where'd you learn to fight like that?"
Wrong again. 0 for 2, Chuck? Pitiful...
"How'd you mean?"
"In your apartment. When I tried to steal your computer…" Chuck still expected reparations for that, "and you started fighting me off. How did… where did you learn that?"
Chuck shrugged. "I've been doing martial arts since um, well you know. I wasn't exactly the most social kid since my mom passed away, so my dad had the brilliant idea of putting me on Jujitsu to try and let me connect again. His master plan to make me popular failed miserably for the most part, but I did enjoy doing it. And apparently I was pretty good at it too. Got my black belt in record time."
"Really?"
"Yeah, the sensei told my dad that he had never seen someone so focused on it like I was. I don't know, I guess I had a lot of pent-up anger to burn off."
The tension between them lifted and Sarah took the opportunity to ask, "How did your dad end up handling… everything? Finding out about your mother and the fact she was a spy?"
Chuck stared at her incredulously, saying, "Well, how do you think he handled things?" He was heartbroken, couldn't handle it anymore. Every time he looked at Ellie, he saw mom and every time he looked at me he remembered what happened to her. So when it became too much, he packed his bags and left. Let us fend for ourselves at the tender age of fifteen for Ellie and thirteen for me."
"I'm… I wasn't trying to imply…"
"No, it's… it's okay I guess. I just… I really don't like talking about it. Whatever happened, happened and it's not something that I can change no matter how much I want to."
Sarah nodded, her grip on the steering wheel tightening. "Do you hold yourself responsible?"
"What kind of a question is that?" Chuck said, agitatedly. "What could I have possibly done different? I was nine, Sarah. Short of getting killed myself, there wasn't a whole lot I could do, now was there?"
"Sorry," she trailed off.
Malevolence got the better of Chuck and he felt like smiling for how miserable he made Sarah. But he suppressed the urge and kept his cool, brooding facade. It did not fit with his cover to be senselessly cruel. Though considering just killing her and being done with it wasn't that great of an idea either. He figured the CIA wouldn't take too kindly to yet another one of their top agents biting the dust. So he kept the conversation going. "Don't worry, it's just… I really don't like talking about it. That's why I never told you or Casey about what happened. It's nothing to do with you, it's just something that's… tough to deal with, you know?"
"Yeah, I get what you mean," she replied and Chuck had no problem identifying the tone of melancholy in her voice. He had been right. She too, had suffered.
"How so?"
"It's… complicated."
"Oh-ho, that's not how this works. What, I'm supposed to be fine with you guys knowing everything there is to know about Chuck Bartowski, sad nerd by day, super computer by night, but I don't get to know about the two people to whom I entrust my life?"
"I know it's not fair, but this… Just like yours, my childhood wasn't the greatest and I've done some things that I'm not proud of."
"Like what?"
Chuck knew he was being unreasonable. But he fully embraced the notion of an eye for an eye. If they knew about his past, then it was only just that he knew about theirs. Despite the fact that Sarah clearly wasn't going to answer, a smile bloomed on her face. "You really don't give up easily, do you?"
Chuck shrugged once more, returning a smile purely for her benefit. "I'm a Bartowski. I'm pretty sure it's in our genes to be irrationally stubborn."
Sarah chuckled and Chuck instinctively knew that it signaled the end of their discussion. Just one more piece that didn't seem to fit anywhere in the puzzle that was Sarah Walker. He never did like puzzles, especially when they seemed to be incomplete.
The lights from the other cars zoomed by and the silence this time was a lot more bearable. There were still a lot of questions to be asked but Chuck was relieved that Sarah at least had found the common decency to leave him alone and not ask any more uncomfortable questions. Chuck, in return, had the same courtesy. They rolled up to the apartment at a tolerable speed of seventy miles an hour, but Chuck had already come to terms with the fact that Sarah liked things to be done fast. That's probably why she hooked up with Bryce. A quick snap of the hand-break and a rather impressive bit of steering later, he was deposited on the curb in front of his home.
"So… what do we… do? What's the proper etiquette for two people saying goodbye after getting some coffee, catching a Serbian demolitions expert, defusing a bomb with porn and being appointed government handlers, all the while trying to make his or her family believe that he was in fact out on a date?"
Sarah briefly contemplated it. "That's… a good question. A kiss would be too forward, but a hug would suffice, I suppose. But don't you think it's a bit too much? I mean, we're the only ones here and…" Chuck stopped her before she could finish.
Cheekily he said, "Ah, but you don't know my sister. She has somewhat of a 'Chuck sensor,' if you will. You probably don't see it, but she's watching our every move."
He saw Sarah gazing over his shoulder and her eyes widen. "I'll be damned," she muttered. Chuck had a victorious smirk on his face.
"So, a hug it is?"
"I guess."
She moved in and laid her head against his chest, before enveloping him in her arms. He in turn enclosed her in his arms, her head fitting neatly beneath his chin. She smelled delightfully of grapefruit. He gave her a quick squeeze and felt her returning the gesture, before releasing her. "Have a good night, Sarah."
"You too, Chuck."
She walked away and Chuck sighed, before turning and walking to his home, ready to face the onslaught that an excited Eleanor Bartowski would surely bring.
The lone lamp that was hanging from the ceiling softly swayed like a pendulum when the rickety door flung open wide to reveal Chuck hauling an unconscious body inside. What do they feed NSA agents these days? This guy must weigh a freaking ton...
He continued dragging the body further into the shadows until reaching the center of the room where a surgical table resided. With no delay he pulled the man in a fireman's carry, and unceremoniously dumped him on the tabletop. Then the restraints came next. They were simple, but effective. Able to bind the strongest of his playthings without fail. There would be no movement. No chance of escape. Nothing but the happy gift of relief and liberation.
After securing and double checking his about-to-be former handler, he retraced his steps back out of the secluded shack and into the abyss. A shattering blast of lightening shredded the dark night and showed the Herder parked on the side of the dirt road. Chuck went to it quickly as a boom of thunder and another stroke of lightening came and went. He was very close now, clutching his car key in the air. And then he was lost in the black stillness. There was a sudden silence, a complete hush, as if nothing anywhere was breathing and even the darkness was holding its breath-
And there came an almighty rush of wind and a last hammer of thunder and the whole world cried out. The sky opened up and released its burden. All of the glowering clouds that had hid that pulsing swollen moon, parted. The slow trickle of light became a glimmering beam of celestial or demonic intent. It shone listlessly on Chuck, encouraging him to move faster. He obliged with a feral grin and unlocked the car in the sudden storm. The car's front door swung ajar and out came Agent Walker's limp form from the backseat. Chuck flipped her over his shoulder; kicked the door closed before trudging through the pouring rain back towards his safe haven.
Very soon she was prepared in the same manner as the Major. Chuck finished with the last straps before leaning back into his chair he'd set up just for the occasion. Time passed at reasonable pace, but it wasn't enough. He could not contain his excitement. His knee bounced over the other. His hands fidgeted. Even his dead heart raced away to oblivion. Finally when it all almost became too much, the two spies began to stir.
Time for my play date.
The telltale grunt informed him that Major John Casey was the first to awaken. His eyelids fluttered until he came to full wakefulness. For a moment he laid still, feeling the tight unyielding Velcro straps holding him motionless and perhaps wondering why. Then he seemed to remember his training and put up his emotionless, fearless mask. Not long after and Sarah Walker also began to rouse to consciousness. Once Chuck was satisfied they were mostly alert, he nearly leapt from his chair.
"Welcome," he greeted cheerfully, "to my humble abode."
"Bartowski, I knew you were a goddamn freak!" growled Casey.
"Sticks and stones may break my bones, Major," he recited in a sing-song. "But knives are so much more pleasant. I'm pretty sure that's not exactly how it's supposed to go, but adaptability has always been one of my strong suits."
"Chuck," Sarah cried out. "Why are you doing this?"
He began casually circling the federal agents with the same predatory finesse as a shark. Idly playing with his gloved hands, he chuckled darkly and spoke up. "Well Agent Walker, it seems to me like you're asking for a motive. It's be awfully inconsiderate of me to not properly explain why you're about to die. You see, all of this happened because of Bryce Larkin. So if you're going to blame anybody, blame the dead.
I was pretty content with my life before the two of you came and screwed it up. Dad had it all figured out. Together, we'd get vengeance for my mom's murder, taking out those responsible and then be on our merry way. Instead, your boyfriend thought it'd be a fantastic idea to fuck with me not once, not twice, but three times. He stole Jill—who wasn't much of a loss since she was purely for appearances' sake. He got me kicked out of Stanford and decided to make it a 'hat-trick' by sending me a stolen Intersect." Pausing, Chuck gauged the bewildered looks from his victims. He elaborated, "I'm sure you're both scratching your heads as to why I know so much about your government's top secret supercomputer, right? Maybe it'd make more sense if I were to let it slip that my dad already had an earlier version uploaded into my head long before the CIA's. It's an invaluable tool really; helping identify my enemies so I can avenge my mother as well as satisfy my thirst for blood."
Sarah's eyes had gradually widened throughout the entire confession. Casey however, remained stoic. Impassive. Neither spy dared to utter a word that could compromise them. Their training was impressive. Most of his playthings had been reduced to blubbering messes by now.
Casey calmly asked, "Why kill us?"
"Good question!" answered Chuck brightly. He clasped his hands together while concluding his short trek around the table. "My dad taught me a code. One of the basic principles behind it was to never kill an innocent person. However, it also said to never get caught either. The latter rule supersedes the former unfortunately. Which means that since I can't afford to be under Big Brother's scrutiny, I'll have to kill you two and then go off grid. Sure, it's a little bit more labor intensive, and I'll always be running...but the silver lining is that I will be free. From everything and everyone. Finally."
Chuck moved to where Sarah lay and hovered over her. Smiling, he spoke, "Did you ever think that with all the terrorists and assassins you were chasing, your end would come at the hand of someone you had sworn to protect? It's irony in its purest form, really." He rested his palm on her bare thigh and started slowly inching his way beneath her skirt.
This got an angry outburst from Casey. "So you're going to rape her before killing her?" he shouted. "I wouldn't expect anything less from a fucking creep like you, Bartowski!"
Chuck retracted his hands like it was on fire. "What? No, that's disgusting. I may be a monster, but I do have standards. I would never take advantage of the helpless...well not in that way at least." He resumed where he left off before the outcry; quickly sliding his fingers up her leg until he found what he'd been searching for. He unstrapped the holster and removed his hand. Agent Walker's cheeks were flushed scarlet and he briefly wondered why she'd be so embarrassed.
He carefully unsheathed the blade and twirled it skillfully between his nimble fingers. "I gotta hand it to you, Sarah; you have a great taste in knives." Walking to Casey, he added. "Since you never really made an effort to connect, you're not really worth my time. But seeing as I'm in a giving mood, I'll let you have your famous last words."
"Go to hell, Bartowski."
"And I will see you there, but hopefully not for a long, long time. Crossing my fingers," he remarked while making the gesture before jabbing the dagger's edge into the side of Casey's neck. With a violent tug, Chuck sliced across flesh and muscle effortlessly. The power behind it was so strong; he almost got carried away and decapitated the Major by accident.
"Oops," he mumbled apologetically. "Wow, sharp. I see you like to take good care of your equipment, Agent Walker." Casting a disarming smile, he was disappointed to find she'd turned her head to avoid the gruesome spectacle. Tears were flowing down her cheeks.
"Why?" she hoarsely whispered. "I trusted you."
Chuck shook his head, smile broadening. "Now, that wasn't very wise of you, was it? Why in the world would you trust somebody you hardly know?"
"I-Is there something you want?" Her desperation was music to his ears. "What do you want? Money? Amnesty? Sex?"
He tilted his head dubiously. "Seriously? You're propositioning to me?"
Sarah swallowed thickly. "If that's what you want. Most men wouldn't say no..."
"I'm not most men, Sarah," replied Chuck coolly. He bent over and traced the tip of the knife lightly over her face. "Especially not those pieces of shit that you've had to deal with. I would never stoop so low..."
The color drained from Sarah's face but she kept quiet. Chuck sighed. "Look, this isn't anything to do with you. You were really nice to me so I hate to be the bad guy, but I can't control my urges and well, I have a feeling it wouldn't end well for me if the CIA or NSA were to find out what I've been up to in my spare time. This isn't personal, just business."
He poised the bloodied knife over her chest, aligning it with her heart. "So, do you think you can one-up your ex-partner?"
Sarah had been looking at him directly in the eye when a wave of calming clarity swept over her. With a voice that didn't waver, she spoke in a hauntingly soft tone. "I'll save you, Chuck. If it's the last thing I do, I will save you from yourself..."
Chuck hesitated for all but a second, letting her words sink in. He hadn't faltered and the knife remained looming above Sarah like a guillotine ready to drop. Unbeknownst to him, his grip on the hilt was trembling ever so slightly.
He glanced down at her, stating coldly, "I don't need saving."
The knife fell with a whoosh and skewered her, the biting steel finding its mark with deadly precision. He watched in silent awe as the light left Sarah's eyes. She gasped, before falling limp indefinitely.
Chuck stood rooted to the floor, relishing as the beast imprisoned within him purred with content. He did it. He was finally free. Free from the oppression that his handlers had invariably brought down upon his life. He returned to that glorious status-quo. Now he would be able to finish what he started so long ago.
He stared at Sarah with a subdued grin flitting across his lips. Her blue eyes vacantly focused at him. No hard feelings, right?
Suddenly, her hands flew up and grabbed his in a deathlike grip. They held the hilt of the knife together. Chuck struggled to escape but could not find the strength to move. Blood trickling from her bluing lips, Sarah whispered, "Chuck...Chuck, are you ok?"
He panicked. "No, no, no, this isn't real! I killed you! I watched you die! How are you still alive?"
"Hello? Earth to Chuck."
The shack receded into the depth of his mind and Chuck zoned back into reality. He was standing behind the Nerd Herd desk, his CIA handler Sarah Walker, who was still very much alive, eyed him with uncertainty and concern. His nose was once again filled with the smell of grapefruit, courtesy of their close proximity to one another.
"Huh, what?" He blinked furiously. "I'm back. Sorry, just had a daydream."
"Must've been a good one, you were grinning for at least five minutes."
"You've been here for five minutes?"
Sarah nodded. "Yeah, I actually got quite worried when you didn't seem to respond to me. But I'm glad you've decided to return to the land of the living. Anyway, the Director and General have some information for us. We're being summoned to Casey's hotel room."
"Oh, alright. Hang on, let me just…" He picked up the off-site install sheet and quickly penned in some fake details, before walking around and joining up with Sarah. Together they walked out of the Buy More.
For the life of him, Chuck could not get rid of the horrific images from his mind. Both Sarah and Casey's corpses were not-so-neatly sprawled out on the surgical table. Their paling flesh contrasting beautifully with the blood as it split over the sides and drip dripped to the floor. And her eyes, empty, void of everything and filled with nothing. They would always stare at him, forever as a reminder of his guilty pleasure.
The traffic was brutal as usual. Sarah was flabbergasted that the freeway was entirely backed up before noon. She hadn't anticipated that the lanes would be clogged in all directions; tagging on an extra half hour before reaching their destination. But that was Los Angeles for you. Chuck, of course, wasn't surprised. He didn't care about being late so there was no point of him warning her beforehand. What did it matter to him if the Director of the CIA and a four-star General decided to chew them out? As far as he was concerned, they only had authority above their agents. To him, they were but insignificant specks of dust. They could rant and rave until they were blue in the face, and yet it'd still only be a vain attempt to make him feel a shred of remorse.
Eventually they arrived to the hotel. There was no reason to try and hurry, at least Chuck thought so. Sarah had other ideas. She rushed towards the elevator and almost pried it open in her haste. Chuck simply watched to his great amusement as she'd impatiently glance at the clock while tapping her foot on the tiled floor. Once inside the cramped space, she heaved a big sigh. The elevator began its ascent to its desired level. All the while Sarah became fixed with Chuck, sneaking looks of concern in his direction. She was obviously still troubled from when he'd been caught spacing out earlier that day.
"It's not like it happens often," he said.
At least ten people standing beside them whirled around when he broke the uncomfortable silence. He had knowingly broken the rule of refraining from social interaction while in the elevator. Again, the awkwardness did not appear to register. Even Sarah shot him a cautionary look.
"What?"
"The fact that I zoned out. It was a onetime thing, I promise."
Or maybe not. It all depends on whether or not I'll be able to find a way to keep killing in peace. If I can't, well then daydreaming will be the least of my problems.
He mentally sulked at the thought of reforming himself. Abstinence didn't sound remotely appetizing. In fact, it sounded horrible. His dark companion crawled restlessly inside of him as a result of the uncomfortable news. It howled, frustrated. Chuck had to close his eyes to combat the overwhelming urge writhing from within.
Chuck had collected himself by the time they had reached the top level. The elevator bells chimed to signal their arrival. Wordlessly, they walked into Casey's room. The first thing that Chuck and Sarah saw upon crossing the threshold was the scowling face of Director Graham filling up three quarters of the television's screen.
"Agent Walker and Mr. Bartowski. I'm glad to see you've decided to join us."
"Sorry, Sir." replied Sarah.
She nudged Chuck with her foot.
"Sorry...Sir." Asshole.
The Director leaned back to reveal the petite General behind him. She too was wearing a scowl, albeit one that was less defined. "Now that everyone is accounted for, let's get straight to business. For the purpose of this assignment, we have decided on covers for all of you. Major Casey, you will be joining the Intersect as protection detail during his day job. You will pose as a sales clerk to keep an eye out on Mr. Bartowski. You will also be moving into the apartment that has just opened up across the Bartowski's. From there you will maintain visual, as well as video and audio surveillance on the asset's apartment.
Agent Walker, you will pose as the asset's girlfriend. We understand that you've used this angle to make initial contact and as such, we'd like for you to continue with it. Please note agents, that this is an extremely unusual way for the United States to conduct its business. We are taking a huge risk by not placing the asset underground. You will have to prove to us that you are capable of keeping him safe. Furthermore, Agent Walker, we will update you on your new cover job in a few days. We're sorting out the contract for your new employer as we speak."
Chuck set his jaw. The United States government is going to actually be babysitting me. This is not good.
Like in the elevator moments ago, the darkness had returned from its brief respite with a vengeance. It almost stole his breath away. He felt an uncontrollable anger surge through him, setting his senses ablaze. He unconsciously clenched his hands into fists; fingernails biting into his palm as he tried to not attract suspicion. His darker half wanted to come out and play.
"Excuse me, but how exactly is that a believable cover for Sarah?" Chuck had to bite his tongue before his harsh tone turned into violent action. Not good. Not good at all. But he couldn't stop himself. Corvus was at the helm now. "Have you seen her? Have you seen me? How are people ever going to believe that we're dating? Aren't covers supposed to make sense? And furthermore..." I don't want her anywhere near me. When people get close, they end up in a body bag. "I can't believe that you're forcing her to act as my girlfriend. What if she wanted to enter a relationship with someone else? Would the fact that she's supposedly with me overcomplicate things?"
"You're right, Mr. Bartowski. That would indeed overcomplicate things…" Graham started in a condescending tone, but Chuck spoke over him.
"Well then, can't she pose as a new friend or something? I have a few of those, a few more wouldn't hurt! Plus, I mean, that would be more believable than dating."
"If you hadn't interrupted," Graham cut in once again, "you would've found that it's strictly against protocol for agents to be dating outside of the Agency. So no, it won't be inconvenient, mainly because there is nothing to make it inconvenient. Now, if that's all?"
Before Chuck could throw up another objection, the two leaders of the respective Intelligence agencies disappeared from the screen. Shaking with something akin to rage or fear bound to desperation, he turned to Sarah and said with a decidedly fake, yet very convincing voice: "I'm so sorry that they put you up to this, you have to know that I don't want to force you into something and I…"
"Can it, Bartowski," Casey sneered. "This is what we do. If that means that Walker here has to pose as your girlfriend then so be it. Besides, she probably likes it anyway. If it was up to me, you'd be saying hello to four padded walls right about now."
Sarah once again glared at Casey, her laser-like anger promising death and decay for the NSA agent. Chuck couldn't help but be transfixed by the anger in her cobalt eyes. It was… familiar. Recognizable. She turned to Chuck and her eyes softened noticeably. "Don't worry about it, Chuck. I highly doubt that I would want to enter a relationship at this point in time."
Right, Bryce. The wound is still fresh for her. She should really get over it.
"Okay, just… the last thing I want to do is make things uncomfortable for you. Besides, I have an aversion to PDA anyway and most people know about it, so we don't have to do all those kinds of things in front of other people. We can keep it low-key."
"Thank you for worrying about me, Chuck but I've been doing this for quite some time. I'm pretty sure I can handle myself," she said with a grin.
"That's great; you two go ahead and discuss how you'd like to mix condiments in the privacy of your own homes or something. I've got more important things to do." Casey's eyes flicked to the table, where a disassembled M4 carbine lay, along with a cleaning kit.
"Cleaning guns?"
"It's cathartic. Either that or I play a game I'd like to call Whack-an-Asset. Which would you prefer?"
"Good luck cleaning your guns, Major," Chuck said, before grabbing Sarah's hand and bolting for the door. When they were safely outside he released it like it was on fire. "Sorry about that. It just didn't seem like a good idea to be seriously injured on the first day at my new job and he seems like the kind of guy that has his calm center replaced by an angry one."
Sarah chuckled. "Don't worry about it, Chuck. I would've protected you from him. That's my job."
"Fair point. So, I suppose that we're now dating. You do know what that means huh?"
She arched an eyebrow. "What exactly does that mean?"
He grinned. "Bartowski movie night. I'm sorry, there's no way around it. My sister is re-lent-less. The moment she finds out that you and I are dating, she'll be on you like white on rice."
Sarah heaved a relieved sigh, which Chuck found odd but she didn't give him time to question her little action. Instead, she grinned back at him and said, "I'm sure I could suffer through it."
"Excellent."
Chuck may have temporarily quelled the darkness, but he didn't know how long it'd last. For now, the beast returned to its slumber and Corvus' little stunt became a thing of the past. All that remained was his growing curiosity for the woman standing before him, and the troubled musings of how to keep his unusual burden contained.
A week had passed since that fateful day when Bryce Larkin had effectively ruined Chuck's life—again. While he blamed his former roommate for his expulsion from Stanford, it was more of an inconvenience than anything else. He was upset, sure. Who wouldn't harbor some hatred for the person who was solely responsible for framing you for a crime that you didn't commit (for once), as well as stealing your "girlfriend" in one fell swoop? It forced Chuck to don a new persona, one where he'd sulk for a while. And at some point, a while turned into a hell of a longer time than Chuck originally anticipated. Nevertheless, he played the sulking, self-deprecating nerd to a tee.
But now Bryce had struck again, from beyond the grave. His second attempt to destroy Chuck's precious little life was an unfortunate success. Of course he probably thought it was hilarious to mess with his ex-college buddy for one final hurrah. For old time's sake. So Chuck was stuck with the Intersect, and two highly skilled government handlers. Where one was trying to actually be nice to him, and the other who wasn't even making an attempt to be cordial. They had him under constant surveillance 24/7. If that wasn't bothersome enough, Chuck had to accept that Agent Walker was posing as his girlfriend. It got him thinking: what in the hell were they smoking in the Intelligence community? Did they not see the blatant physical differences between a woman who, had her CIA career not panned out, would've been a model posing on the covers of MAXIM or Esquire, and an average looking guy such as him? Despite their respective personalities, Chuck was well aware of how they appeared in public. There was no way people were going to buy them together as a couple.
But then again, I'm clearly wrong half the time anyway.
Nobody (definitely not Chuck) could've predicted the sheer force of nature that became of Eleanor Faye Bartowski, the instant she saw her little brother walking up to the apartment with a woman by his side. He was pretty confident in the fact that if there was a zombie apocalypse anytime soon, he could record her high-pitched squeal and have all the undead and dogs in the greater LA area, running for the hills. Add to that the fact that apparently she was not in the least bit surprised to see Chuck with someone as aesthetically pleasing as Agent Walker. To her credit, Sarah stayed a consummate professional, which in this case meant hugging up against Chuck's arm with a brilliant smile on her face. The Intersect wasn't lying about her aptitude for going undercover almost effortlessly. No wonder her marks in Seduction class were so ridiculously high.
Upon reaching the courtyard, Chuck watched with a wary eye as his sister practically dashed out of their apartment and came towards Sarah and him with a distinct spring in her step.
"Hey Ellie," he greeted.
"Chuck!" Ellie shouted. "Come in, come in," she told the faux-couple. Chuck looked at Sarah and gave her a helpless shrug before walking in. "So this is the 'Sarah' that you've been talking about."
"You've been talking about me?" Sarah asked, quirking an eyebrow.
Ellie cut in. "No, he's been understating you. Chuck," she said, hissing his name. "You've never told me she was this pretty."
"I thought you said that looks weren't everything," Chuck said dryly. He had to suppress a chuckle when he saw the slightly defeated look on his sister's face. While she might've been one of the few people he was still able to care for, that didn't mean that the brother-sister ribbing had to come to an end.
"Well, yeah, but...Oh, just shut up," she finally snapped with a grin.
Chuck heard Sarah stifle a chuckle next to him and he gave her another noncommittal shrug. They walked into the comfortable living room where the TV was showing the news. The audio had been turned down and Devon was strewn across the couch.
"Hey Devon, this is my… girlfriend… Sarah." He internally grimaced when he thought of Agent Walker in that way. How the hell was she taking this so well? Must have a lot of experience with this kind of stuff.
Devon lazily swung his legs off the couch, his hair looking disheveled and bags under his eyes. He still looked awesome. "Sarah," he said in a tone that was only a smidgen less enthusiastic than usual. "Awesome to meet you!"
"Told you," Chuck said as he nudged Sarah, who didn't try to contain her giggles.
"Hello Devon," Sarah said in a tone that was on yet another pitch and inflection than what he had heard from her so far. "It's nice to meet you." She stuck out her hand and Devon grabbed it, giving it a firm shake. Chuck watched the exchange, and realized that he still preferred the fiery Agent Walker. If he had to put a label on this particular version though, he'd probably go with domestic Agent Walker. If there even was such a thing. Her tone was soft and gentle and to the average onlooker, it would suggest that she was just a girlfriend that was somewhat bashful about meeting the family of the boyfriend. It was so convincing that even Chuck himself thought that it was real. But he shook those thoughts from his head. He could only imagine how uncomfortable this must've been for Agent Walker. Dropping her strong personality in favor of this… mask that she had been forced to wear. Chuck could easily relate. Sometimes he just wanted to let go of everything and be the man that he was. Or monster. Whichever. Of course, he was criminally insane and that was sort of frowned upon by society, but that didn't make the itch any less prevalent.
"So Sarah, what did you bring for us?" Ellie queried. Since this was the first time that Sarah mixed with the family, Ellie thought it a good idea for her to pick out the movie. To feel included. Sarah rummaged in her clutch and pulled out a DVD. Ellie gasped. "Is that…?"
"Yup," Sarah grinned. In her hands was the DVD of Pretty Woman.
Chuck groaned.
"That's what you come up with?" he incredulously asked. Fine, maybe Julia Roberts is delightful, but still. He looked over and saw the same sardonic expression on Devon's face. The women however, looked positively gleeful.
"Excellent, Sarah! I can tell that Chuck made a good choice," she said with a grin, before turning around and putting the DVD in the player. She missed the apologetic look that Sarah shot to Chuck, or the confused one that Chuck was sure was plastered on his face. What does she have to apologize for?
It was roughly halfway through the movie, the characters of Richard Gere and Julia Roberts had just gone to a polo match, when something started gnawing at Chuck. Actually, it had been gnawing at him the whole time, but he only chose to recognize it at this point. He was extremely uncomfortable with this. I wonder how Ellie would react if I just slit Sarah's throat… Lovingly, he looked at Sarah's naked neck, the images of his vivid daydream from a few days ago still firmly imprinted on his mind's eye. Sarah, who had nestled into Chuck because of the cover, couldn't help but glance over to him. They made eye contact, which only further increased the awkward atmosphere according to Chuck.
Sarah crinkled her nose in a cute way, before burrowing herself in his side, her eyes fixed on the TV again. "Well done on keeping the cover intact," she whispered.
"Huh? What?" he asked, momentarily shaken from his thoughts, which involved blood, viscera and several of Sarah's intestines.
"The loving looks you've been sending in my direction. I never knew you bought into your cover so well,"
"Uh… sorry," he said while blushing. He saw Sarah eye him from the corner of her vision and smiling at his flustered look. Bet you wouldn't smile if you knew why I was blushing.
"It's okay. Besides, I have to say, opposed to other missions I had to do, this is a walk in the park. So thanks for making it easy on me." He saw her glance to the side, before she whispered, "Quick, kiss me on top of my head."
"What?" he asked, slightly panicking. To go from having innate desires to kill the woman that had all but fused to you to showing forms of intimacy made Chuck's emotional compass do a quadruple take. "Why?"
"Because your sister is watching and she's seeing us murmuring. It'd be a great way to solidify the cover of boyfriend and girlfriend," she replied softly.
Chuck took a deep breath and dipped his chin to the crown of her head, letting his lips linger there for a split second before pulling back. The strong scent of grapefruit penetrated his nostrils and it intoxicated him for a split second. No longer were his thoughts focused on killing Agent Walker. Instead, he found them drifting back to the movie. His darker half had apparently lost its desire for blood. He knew it to be a brief respite, but the nagging voice in his head had quieted down and he fixed his attention back on the screen, content with getting a break from it all.
The credits started rolling and by then, Chuck noticed the living room had gone quiet with the exception of the hum from the television. Sarah had found a comfortable position with her face nestled Chuck's neck. Her eyes slowly drooped closed and she began to doze off. Meanwhile Ellie stood up and yawned once before moving to eject the movie from the DVD player. The noise of the disk popping out was subtle, but enough to rouse everyone from their sleepy states. Chuck nudged Sarah gently and she woke up as well. He briefly admired the glazed over look in her eye. It reminded him strangely of his countless victims, and how they all stared up at him with the same drowsy expression before they eventually gave into the inevitable.
"Guess it's that time again, huh?" he asked, trying to keep his own exhaustion out of his otherwise neutral tone. He watched his sister and Devon already looking earnest to retreat for their bedroom. Rolling his eyes, he added. "Anyway, since Sarah's car is in the shop, I'm going to drive her home. Don't wait up, you two."
Ellie smiled shyly, "We won't. Drive safe, little brother."
Devon winked. "Yeah, take your time bro."
Chuck chose to ignore that. He pushed up off the couch, helping Sarah to her feet like the caring boyfriend he supposedly was. A slight blush crept into her face as he rested a hand on the small of her back, wordlessly ushering them out of the apartment. Before reaching the door, they heard Captain Awesome murmur to Ellie. "First-date sex, awesome." Which caused Sarah to tense up; Chuck nearly crashing into her from behind.
"Oh, sorry Chuck," she mumbled, quickening her pace to the front door where she yanked it open, leaving him in the living room, still clutching the Pretty Woman DVD case.
"Sarah?" He tried to call out, but to no avail. Shrugging, he took off after her, leaving his sister and boyfriend to do...whatever it was that they did. He really didn't want to know nor think about it too deeply. They said that psychopaths didn't have any feelings, emotions. Which meant that he, being a psychopath, could stomach the vilest of things. But even if that were mostly true; Chuck had no intention of ever walking in on them or anyone else. It made him feel uncomfortable.
Chuck proceeded to chase the blonde spy through the courtyard. There, the apartment adjacent to his opened up to reveal John Casey. He was wearing a somewhat expensive looking bathrobe, clutching a glass of scotch and holding a cigar with his free hand. Chuck became rooted in place, deciding that he may never get used to having a spy live next door. He also had to remind himself that he didn't accidentally ask the Major whether or not he liked to wear a monocle and top hat to complete his strange ensemble.
Casey held up the hand with the cigar, beckoning them both inside his newly furnished place. "Get in here, we got a surprise meeting."
Chuck inwardly groaned but complied. He followed Sarah inside into the vacant entryway to find a rather impressive television screen set up; displaying the two leaders of the Intelligence community.
"Is this the only channel that you get on that thing, Casey?" asked Chuck with a smirk. "'Cause if so, I could probably install some new ones for you. I'll even throw in the 'special' channels, free of charge."
The growl actually scared him a little bit.
"If we're all done being the class clown, Mr. Bartowski, we'd like to start this meeting," the General asked. Despite her diminutive stature, her voice carried an edge that Chuck couldn't help but find impressive.
Chuck shrugged and he felt the sharp sting of a boot connecting with his shin. He looked to his left and saw a scarily intense expression adorning Sarah's face. Something had really startled her. Usually she wasn't wound up this tight. She nudged her head towards the monitor and Chuck finally caught on.
"Yes ma'am, all done. My apologies."
"Excellent," she said, the sarcasm dripping from the monitor. "The good news first, Mr. Bartowski. We'll soon be out of your hair."
Wait, what? Did I just hear that right...?
Chuck's face bloomed in a full blown smile. "Really?" he asked, unable to keep the hopeful tinge from coloring his voice.
"Yes, Chuck," the booming voice of Graham came. "We've found a doctor who works for the NSA, a Dr. Zarnow. He claims that he can remove the Intersect. Based on the facts and figures he presented to us, we believe him."
"That's great!" Chuck cried out. Sarah quirked an eyebrow, but didn't say anything. Maybe I won't see body bags in your future, Agent Walker… or you Major Casey.
"We will be conducting the tests somewhere we have a distinct advantage. Obviously, for safety reasons, we cannot tell the doctor your identity, Mr. Bartowski, which rules out the Major's apartment," Beckman continued.
Aw, they actually care about my well-being. I should probably send them a fruit basket. Or a body in a casket. Whichever comes first.
The General continued: "Therefore, we have decided to employ agent Walker's hotel room. You will be set up in the bathroom, where a locked door will separate you and the doctor from each other. After the tests, he will give his final recommendation before the procedure to remove the Intersect will commence."
"Wait, hold up. You said that he will give a recommendation. Does that mean that you're not sure if he can even do it?" Chuck felt the same painful feeling as before, as Sarah's boot retracted itself to a standing position. The woman seemed to have some sort of sensors that would target the same spot all the time. He wanted to rub the sore spot, but before he could, he'd had to add something to his previous statement. "ma'am?"
The tiny redhead sighed. "That's correct Mr. Bartowski. The Intersect isn't an exact science. A lot of it is built upon speculation. But we have the upmost faith in the doctor," she responded. It did little to appease Chuck, but at least they were working on a way of getting him out of the frustrating situation. So there was that.
"If those are all the questions, this meeting is over." The link was closed as per the usual, not really allowing a response from the newly minted Team Bartowski. Chuck felt it prudent to point out that he wasn't getting paid for any of this, despite being the titular member of the team. Apparently the government didn't believe in copyrights and registered trademarks. Such was life.
Casey grunted, walking off as he stated rather grumpily: "Make sure you close the door behind you when you get out." Chuck was itching to make a snarky comment, but before he could, the door had opened and closed already. Sarah had left without saying anything. Something was definitely wrong. He walked to the door and opened it, letting it fall closed behind him. For no apparent reason besides his own growing curiosity, Chuck found himself speed-walking over to the Herder by the parking lot. Sarah was already sitting on the hood, nibbling at her nails. Her tell that she was emotionally on edge. He thought about how best to broach her sudden shift in moods, when it came to him.
"Hey Sarah, I got your… DVD… here." Chuck awkwardly trailed off as Sarah had a picture perfect representation of the thousand yard stare. He waved his hand in front of her eyes. Did I look this ridiculous in the Buy More?
The hand waving seemed to do the trick and she snapped out of whatever it was that had occupied her mind. She threw on a smile, but it failed to reach her eyes. "I had fun tonight," she said. Her voice had gone back to feisty-Sarah, but there were edges of emotional-Sarah thrown in the mix. Chuck was stumped. Is she bipolar?
"Yeah…" he said, slowly trailing off. "Is something the matter?"
"Why would you think that?" she asked, a smile grazing her face. It looked decidedly fake. Much less real than the ones that she had been sending his way ever since that day in the Buy More. Suddenly it dawned on him when he had noticed the change.
"Dunno," he admitted. "Something feels different about you. There's usually this…" He started snapping his fingers, trying to find the word. "Light, for lack of a better term, that's shining in your eyes. But ever since Awesome's comment, it's been gone. Poof. Disappeared."
"Don't worry about it," she hastily said before slipping into the Herder's passenger seat. Chuck sighed and walked to his side, not about to let the issue drop. While the fact that he probably wouldn't kill for a while -at least not until Zarnow had removed the Intersect- was a buzz kill, he had no intention of kicking it anytime soon. So he had to know whether or not he could trust his babysitters to make sure that didn't happen. He yanked open the door and blindly stabbed the key in the ignition, all the while keeping his eyes firmly on Agent Walker, looking for a sign in her body language that he could exploit getting her to talk. A small movement, the widening of her nostrils, was his in.
"Look, you're obviously upset about something. You know you can tell me, right?"
"I know, Chuck. But it's nothing."
He huffed and slapped the wheel with his palms. "I really like this status-quo we've got going on here Agent Walker," he remarked in a sarcastic tone. "I think it's amazing how when one of my protectors is annoyed or upset by something and I try to help him or her, he or she just retracts back in his or her shell… I'm supposed to be able to trust you. How can I trust you when you're keeping things from me?"
"It's none of your damn business, okay?" she snapped back.
"How is it not? Is it none of my damn business when I end up lying on a curb, bleeding to death because you lost your focus? Is it none of my damn business when I end up being caught and sold to the highest bidder? Surely Agent Walker, it is in fact my damn business."
Sarah looked at him, the fire he so enjoyed watching smoldering within the pools of her eyes. "I'll walk myself home," she growled, before getting out of the car and walking away.
"Fuck!" he shouted, before getting out of the car himself. Hopefully, a little humor and a smidgen of the truth for him wanting to know, would entice her to share. He walked after her. "Sarah… Sarah wait. Look, I'm an asshole, I know. I just… just know I didn't want to make you feel hurt or something. It's just… please stop?" he asked as the speed that Sarah was walking away from the apartment complex increased. She acted as if she didn't hear him. He shrugged and started dashing towards her, his long legs easily eating the distance up. Despite not being in the greatest shape and the fact that his running form was atrocious, he managed to slide in front of her, before whirling around and grabbing both of her hands. He felt her tense up, but she did stop moving.
"It's tough for me, Sarah," he began his explanation. He was fully aware that at any moment, she could break free, judo chop him into oblivion and be on her merry way. He had actually estimated the chances of that happening in the high 60%. "I mean, I understand about wanting to keep things secret. I want that too. If it was up to me, you'd have never found out about how my childhood was. And now that you do, I feel… left out. How fair would it be if I knew intimate details about you, but I was a closed book? Because that's the situation that I'm in. And I didn't mean to be a jerk about it… it's just, things like these are really sensitive to me…" He saw the fire slowly losing its intensity, reduced to embers by the power of his babbling. "Besides, can't I as your legitimate cover boyfriend, learn things about you?" He waggled his eyebrows at her, which broke the dam and she burst out laughing.
"You're a goof, you know that?" she asked, still sniggering
He shrugged. "So I've been told."
She looked at him, a war raging inside her, contemplating between telling him and making a silly excuse. Chuck just held her gaze, giving her time, content to wait her out. Eventually, she sighed. "When I said that this mission was a walk in the park, I wasn't lying. I've had to do some… questionable things in my time with the Agency. Sometimes, female agents are sent on long term seduction missions, mostly to become acquainted with the mark in a familiar manner so that he will eventually reveal secrets to you or show where several key intelligence documents are. It's just that to really gain the trust of someone, sex is usually involved. I've always tried avoiding it, but there have been a few instances where I'd either blow my cover or had to give in. So when Devon made that comment, I couldn't help but… go back there… you know?"
Chuck did know. He had known for almost his entire life. Every time he'd close his eyes, he'd hear that awful dripping again. The soft splat as the drops of blood hit the floor and disintegrated, leaving a blooming red stain on the cold concrete in the cramped cell. Still, he let her vent. The darkness within him purred contentedly, having wrapped yet another person around his manipulative fingers. He had finally started to learn what kind of a person Agent Sarah Walker of the CIA truly was, something that he had tried ever since she had shot his first attempt down in the car, a week ago. But there was something else. An unfamiliar feeling that he hadn't felt since Stanford with Bryce. A kinship. He figured there was still more to Sarah's story, that he was barely scratching the surface of a mind that seemed as fucked up as his was. It struck Chuck as morbidly hilarious that they both ended up on other sides of the law.
"Oh God, you must think I'm some kind of whore now," she said, turning her head away in what was either an Emmy-award worthy version of guilt, shame and disgust. It was either that or the real deal. Softly, he grabbed her chin and turned her head to face him.
"I do not think that," Chuck said, the steel clear in his tone of voice, "at all." He released her and started walking back to the Herder. He stopped when he didn't hear her follow him; turning and saw her rooted to the spot. "Are you coming?"
Chuck saw her inner conflict arise again. Just as she began to reject his offer, Sarah sighed and nodded. The smile had reached her eyes again and his insides were waging a war on what emotion could be more prevalent. His darker half's or these new, unrecognizable ones. The darkness was winning, but Chuck was shocked to find out that it wasn't a complete domination. The small emotion that bubbled in his insides fought valiantly and was winning ground. He tried to shrug it off and got in his car, turned the key that was sat in the ignition. He waited for Sarah to catch up, who nestled herself in the passenger seat. He casted a tired smile and put the car into drive, pulling out into the street. The drive back to Sarah's hotel was peacefully quiet. The silence was welcomed for both passengers. While Chuck drove with his mind preoccupied, thinking hard, Sarah had already fallen fast asleep. Like with every monster, even spies needed their beauty rest too.
An2: Shinyjayne19 here, just wanted to stop by and ask if y'all are confused? Yes, no, maybe? Either way, Aerox and I are building a fandom fortress to keep all the haters out, because whatchu know about time jumps, red herrings, and the inner dialogues of a madman? All that was missing was bacon strips & bacon strip & bacon strips, and some Jack Daniels to top it off. Does this not make any sense to you? Well god I hope not, because we're sick and sleep deprived. We have problems. We also watch way too much Epic Meal Time. That's *caw* smart.
Next Time: Chuck gets knife-happy.
Confession Time: We had fun killing Sarah Walker 0_0