Disclaimer: I do not own Chuck, the man or the show.

Chuck P.O.V.

"Chuck!" a desperate voice said. It was cloudy and distant, just blurry enough to make it impossible to know whose voice it was.

"Chuck, damn it! Wake up!" Whoever it was, she was bossy. Her voice was now clear enough to be able to distinguish that it was the voice of a woman. He knew that much. But he couldn't quite place it. It was familiar, but not so much so that he could remember who it belonged to.

"Chuck, I swear, if you die on me, I will kill you."

Chuck forced himself to swallow. "That doesn't make any sense," he managed, his voice scratchy.

Sarah let out a breath loudly. "Chuck, thank God."

Chuck cracked open his eyes. One of them was sticky and gummy, something keeping it from opening completely. Through his right eye, he was able to make out a blurry face. "Oh, hey, Sarah," he muttered.

"Chuck, you almost scared me half to death!" Sarah complained. "What happened?"

Chuck blinked hard, trying to clear away the gunk on his left eye. "Uh," he groaned, long and low.

Sarah didn't let him answer. Insead, she she stood suddenly and rushed out of his line of vision. "Sarah?" Chuck whined groggily, lifting his hand weakly. His brain raced, trying to figure out what was happening. He brushed the back of his hand over his eye, trying to dislodge the stubborn gunk and discovered that it was dried blood.

"Oh," was all he could say.

He heard Sarah's footsteps nearing him. She knelt by his head and set something down beside her knee. Chuck craned his head, trying to see what she had brought, but a knife of hot pain shot through his forehead. He tensed painfully, a low whimper forcing its way out of his mouth. Sarah took his head in her hands and carefully propped him up on something soft.

"Just stay still, okay?" she told him. Chuck tried to nod and sent another jolt of pain knifing through his head. Sarah sighed. "Just stop moving," she repeated.

Chuck followed her advice this time. Sarah reached for the table and grabbed a rag. She wetted it with something in the box by her leg and began to carefully wipe off Chuck's face, starting with his forehead and eye. The rag was cool and felt wonderful against his heated skin, although the silence highlighted the pounding headache that was centered over his right temple.

A minute passed quietly. Chuck struggled to keep his eyes off of Sarah's face as it hovered just over his own. Her eyebrows were scrunched together in concentration, keeping her hand steady. She absently placed her free hand on Chuck's chest, for lack of a better place to rest it, and Chuck's heart lept into his throat.

Sarah was oblivious. "So, what exactly happened to you?" she asked.

Chuck wetted his lips. "Uh, I fell."

Sarah paused and looked at him. "You fell?" she asked incredulously. "And all this happened?"

Chuck grinned, embarrassed, his cheeks heating up. "I hit the table," he said, gesturing weakly to the corner above him. Sarah studied the table for a few seconds before returning to the task at hand. "Yeah, I see that," she said. Her hand was still resting on Chuck's chest.

Chuck swallowed. "I, uh, don't know if you had noticed, but…" He trailed off, sure that Sarah had in fact noticed and he should just let her do her thing.

"Noticed what?" Sarah asked, wiping the last of the blood off Chuck's face.

"Oh, it's no big deal," Chuck hedged. "I mean, it's just that I got shot too, and it feels like I ingested fire, and I wasn't sure if you were planning on-"

Sarah dropped the rag. "What?" she asked. "Where?"

Chuck took the hem of his shirt and pulled it up, revealing a small hole a few inches from his navel. Sarah cursed. "Damn it, Chuck! Why didn't you tell me first?"

Chuck shrugged jerkily. "I dunno, I guess I thought you had noticed it."

"I should have," Sarah muttered. "I got too distracted by your head. Damn it."

Chuck tried to reassure her, but she ignored him and rustled through the box, muttering under her breath. She pulled something out and kept it out of his view. "So what happened?" she asked again, keeping her voice steady. Chuck tried to do the same as he related the story of what happened when he brought Tony back to the storage room. Sarah was messing with something, but Chuck couldn't see it.

Sarah set down whatever she had in her hands and leaned over to unbutton Chuck's shirt. She seemed so matter-of-fact about it, not even pausing to warn him. Chuck's breath hitched, but he managed to finish his story. Sarah's face was burning a strange, slight shade of red, but she said nothing. Chuck swallowed the lump in his throat and finished his story. Sarah frowned. "So, to summarize, Tony shot you, then you gave yourself head trauma?"

Chuck nodded slowly. "Yeah, basically."

Sarah sighed. "Chuck, this is why we don't leave you alone anymore."

Chuck propped himself up on his elbows to protest. It hurt like hell, and he was about to lay back down when he saw what Sarah was working on. "Sarah," he asked tremulously. "What is that?"

Sarah looked up, confused. "Uh, a needle? I have to stitch you up, you're bleeding a lot."

"A needle?" Chuck asked, panic choking up his voice.

"Yes?" Sarah responded slowly. "Why-oh. Needles," she repeated, suddenly understanding.

Chuck's head spun, and he collapsed on the floor.

Sarah dropped the needle and checked his pulse quickly. After assuring herself that he still had a heartbeat, she leaned back and rubbed her forehead. "Chuck," she said to herself as she finished threading the needle. "You really need to get over needles."

Heeeey, guys. I told you, these last two chapters could together make an actual chapter. Sorry about the length, but soccer season's the best. Anyhoo, I'm trying to write quickly. Please be patient. And, thanks for all your support. It means the world to me.

Thanks for reading!