CHUCK VS. THE GOOD & NORMAL & WONDERFUL LIFE
SUMMARY: Chuck and Sarah have a wonderful marriage and daughter and live the normal life in a good house at a good island community. Or do they?????
DISCLAIMER: I don't own "Chuck."
NOTE: Pleasereview! I enjoy reading your comments about my story!
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CHAPTER SIX – WHAT DO YOU MEAN?
Chuck glanced up from his plate of scramble eggs, sausage and blueberry muffin and looked at his daughter and wife. Sallie was munching on cereal and Sarah was eating from her plate of eggs, sausage and muffin. Noticing that her husband was watching her, Sarah, smiled, shook her hair back and tilted up her head slightly to show off the earrings that she was wearing.
They were the diamond earrings that he had given her for their wedding anniversary last week. "They look great on you," Chuck said as he smiled back at her. And then he added, "But heck, you're so beautiful that anything would look great on you."
Sarah beamed and thanked him. "Well, I love them. And I love you. They were a wonderful gift," she said.
"For a wonderful and fantastic lady," Chuck said.
"Given to me by a wonderful and fantastic man," she said.
"Gosh, six years and listen to us," Chuck mused. "It sure doesn't seem like six years. It has been so much fun that it seems like the time has zoomed by. It seems more like just a couple of weeks instead of six years."
"Weeks? Don't you mean a couple of years instead of weeks?" Sarah asked.
"Did I say weeks?"
Sarah nodded. He did say weeks, he realized. Yes, their six years of marriage had zoomed by but it had certainly been more than a couple of weeks. Why did he say weeks?
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After breakfast, Sarah said that she had lots of "chores and things" to do around the house and suggested that Chuck drive himself to work this morning.
"Are you sure you won't need the car?" he asked.
"Positive."
"OK, then I'll see you this afternoon," Chuck said. He wrapped his arms around his wife and kissed her. Sarah happily returned the kiss.
Then he leaned down to Sallie who was still seated at the table and kissed her cheek. "Bye Sallie."
"Bye daddy," Sallie said.
"I love you both," Chuck said as he walked out the door.
"And we love you too," Sarah said.
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The morning at Fulcrumatic turned out to be a busy one for Chuck. When he walked into his office, he found three computer problems awaiting him. So the instant he arrived, he had to dash off to take care of those. The first problem wasn't too difficult. One of the programmer's CPU had a bad USB connection. Chuck replaced it and that took care of that.
Then he went to the second problem, the computer for one of the Fulcrumatic executive's secretary. Every time she tried to save a file in the word processing program, a pop up screen appeared saying that there was a sharing violation and then deleted the file that needed to be saved. The secretary was angry, frustrated and desperately wanted Chuck to fix things.
Which Chuck managed to do. It proved to be a very troublesome issue and took almost an hour but he solved the problem. The secretary thanked him profusely and was so grateful to be able save files without them getting destroyed. That done, Chuck went to the third problem which was the computer in one of the manager's office.
Chuck went down to the seventh floor, turned right from the elevator, and walked through the hallway to George Markstein's office. The door was open. Chuck knocked, walked in and called out the manager's name.
"Mr. Markstein? I understand you're having some computer problems," he said as he glanced around in the office.
The room was empty. Mr. Markstein was not in. Might as well go ahead and look at the computer while I'm here, Chuck thought. Maybe I can figure out what the problem is without waiting for Mr. Markstein.
He walked over to the desk and his eyes spotted a small figurine of a leopard with a red stain on its back. His eyes locked on the statue and then images filled his brain. A man standing in a room with trophy heads of leopards on the wall, some explosions, the same man holding a machete while standing in front of an arsenal of different weapons, the man chopping up people with the machete and then that statue of the leopard and the name, George Markstein.
And when the images stopped, Chuck stood quietly in the empty office and realized that once again he was free of the brainwashing that Fulcrum had done to him.
"Well, Cooler King and Number Six, shall we try to escape again?" he said out loud.
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Chuck walked down the hallway to the elevator. Keep calm, remain calm, he kept telling himself. No one saw you flash, no one knows that you are yourself. Keep calm, act like nothing is going on.
He pressed the down elevator button and waited. He glanced down the hallway in both directions. He spotted a few people but no one gave him a second glance. So far so good, he thought. He glanced up at the elevator floor indicator. The second floor light was on and remained on. The elevator was stopped at the second floor.
Come on, come on, hurry, he muttered to himself.
The light changed from two to three, then three to four, and kept changing. It finally flashed to seven, the bell rang and the doors opened. Chuck dashed in and quickly tapped the ground floor button multiple times.
CALM DOWN! he chastized himself. He stood up straight, took a deep breath and tried to look normal.
The doors closed and the elevator moved downward. It seemed to take forever to Chuck and then he almost moaned out loud when the elevator stopped at the fourth floor and the doors opened. A man stepped in. "Hey Chuck," he greeted.
"Hey, hey, how's it going?" Chuck responded trying to keep the panic out of his voice and trying not to look at the man for fear that he would flash and arouse suspicion.
"Hanging in there, how about you?"
"Fine, fine, just fine, fine," Chuck said and reminded himself to remain calm and act natural. The bell rang and the doors opened to the third floor.
"Be seeing you!" the man said as he walked out of the elevator.
"Yeah, yeah, see you later," Chuck said as he reached over to the elevator panel and pressed the ground floor button to try to hurry the closing of the doors and the elevator's descent. "And for crying out loud, is it really necessary for you to use the elevator just to travel one floor? Use the stairs and get some exercise you lazy jerk," he muttered once the man was out earshot.
The elevator descended and Chuck mentally prayed that it wouldn't stop any more. He breathed a sigh of relief and mumbled a "Thank you!" when the ground floor light came on, the bell rang and the elevator doors opened.
He almost ran out but managed to stop himself. Calm, calm and natural, he thought. He stepped out of the elevator. And collided with Jill Roberts who was carrying some notebooks along with her purse. The collision made her drop everything.
"Chuck!" she said.
"Hey! Hey Jill! Sorry about that, so sorry," he responded and immediately bent down to gather up the notebooks. He quickly stacked the two notebooks, put her purse on top of them and handed the pile to her. "Here you go. So sorry again. I should have looked before I leaped," he said.
"Oh that's all right," Jill replied. She took the notebooks and purse with both hands and then shifted the pile to her left hand. She smiled at him. "Where are you going?" she asked.
"Uhhhh … where am I going … uhhhhh … I'm going … going home. That's it, I'm going home. I'm not feeling too good. I think I got some bad food this morning for breakfast and I'm going home to lie down. Nothing serious I don't think. I just need to go home. So I'm going home. I'll just go on home and lie down," he said. And then he started to walk away but Jill blocked his path and looked concerned.
"Maybe you should go to the doctor. Do you have a fever?" she asked. Then she reached out to feel his forehead with her free hand. And for a split second, the thought of Jill, the Fulcrumatic agent who almost killed Sarah, touching him made Chuck panic. He managed to prevent himself from jumping back in fright but he could not stop the revulsion and nervousness as her hand moved toward his face. He tried to squelch those feelings and hoped that his face didn't show them.
Jill hesitated. Did she notice his look as her hand came toward him? he wondered. She looked quizzically at him. He forced a smile. Jill smiled back and then touched his forehead.
He tried to remain calm and keep from panicking as her hand lingered on his forehead for some time.
"You are hot," Jill said softly. "Are you OK to drive? Would you like me to take you home and get you to bed?" Her eyes seemed to promise much more.
"No, no, I can drive, I can drive OK," Chuck stammered as he slowly moved back out of Jill's reach and walked around her to leave. "See you tomorrow."
He walked away from Jill and then jumped when Lois, the secretary/receptionist called his name.
"Yeah Lois?" he said, trying to steady his voice.
"So you're going home sick? You're out for the rest of the day?" Lois asked.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm going home sick. I don't feel good, so I'm going home sick right now. I'll be gone for the rest of the day. I'm going home sick."
"OK, I hope you feel better Chuck," Lois said.
"Thank you, thank you," he said. He turned and tried to walk slowly and calmly towards the front door as Jill and Lois watched.
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The tires almost squealed as Chuck braked the car after rapidly pulling into the driveway of their home, #6 McGoohan Drive. Fake home, he amended to himself as he jerked off the seatbelt and then looked around the neighborhood and down the street.
After walking out of the Fulcrumatic building, he had to will himself to not run to the car and then speed out of the parking lot. It was difficult because every thought, every action and every impulse inside of him was on getting to this house and getting Sarah and Sallie – or whatever the name of the kid that Fulcrum had brainwashed into being their daughter was – out of here. He hadn't noticed or seen any kind of pursuit as he drove toward this place, this house, this … he kept trying to think of alternatives to home. He just couldn't bring himself to call it home because it was all fake, all unreal, all part of some devious plot or plan to control him and Sarah.
He looked again outside the car windows in all directions. He didn't see any cars coming down the street nor did he see any neighbors or pedestrians watching or wandering around. He still got out of the car cautiously and glanced rapidly from side to side as he tried to look casual as he walked up to the front porch, up the steps, unlocked the door, and strolled into the house.
The second the door shut, he locked the doorknob and deadbolted the door. He turned toward the living room. Sallie sat on the couch watching television.
"Hi daddy!" she said brightly.
"Hi Sallie," he replied. "Is Sar—is mommy here?"
Sallie nodded. Then Sarah popped out from the kitchen. "Hey sweetie," she greeted happily. "You're home early, this is a nice surprise."
Oh my God, Chuck thought as he looked at Sarah. He had to shake his head in astonishment. Sarah, the CIA agent, bodyguard and assassin, was actually wearing an apron that said "Kiss the cook!" and holding and stirring a bowl full of batter. Meet the happy homemaker, Chuck thought. If Casey ever found about this, he'd never let Sarah live this down.
He turned to Sallie "Sallie, stay in here and keep watching television. I need to talk to Sar—to mommy for a while. And don't answer the door if anyone knocks or rings the doorbell, OK? Don't answer the door!"
Sallie nodded in agreement as Chuck rushed over to Sarah, grabbed one of her shoulders and guided her into the kitchen. He took the bowl from her hands, set it on the counter, and then grabbed her by both shoulders and looked at her. Sarah stared back at him, concerned.
"We don't have much time and this is going to sound totally crazy. But we have to leave, we have to get out of here now!" Chuck told her.
Sarah didn't say anything for a moment. She looked at him strangely. "Chuck, what is it? What's wrong? What's going on?"
"We have to take Sallie and go now. We have to get out of here. We're in danger and we need to leave now," he said.
Then she looked scared. "Chuck … why … what's going on?"
He gripped her shoulders a little tighter and shook his head. How could he convince her, how could he get both her and Sallie into a car and get them going? He tried to ignore the panic that had been building up inside him. He had no idea if anybody knew that he was normal right nor if there was anyone coming to stop him. But he did know that they needed to do something, to get out of here. But how could he convince Sarah to do that?
"Do you trust me?"
"Of course I trust you Chuck," she replied firmly.
"I need you to trust me now when I tell you that we have to leave here, we have to go … we have to go now! We're in danger and we have to get out of here!"
Chuck, I trust you but you're scaring me. What is wrong? What is going on? Why do we need to leave?"
This was not going well so far, he thought in frustration. If only he could get through to Sarah, the real Sarah, his Sarah. But how? How could he do that? Somehow he had been able to defy the brainwashing. Did the Intersect have anything to do with that? Did the flashing somehow disrupt or weaken the brainwashing or conversion or whatever it was? If only he knew of some way to get Sarah back to normal. But how? He looked pleadingly into her eyes.
"Sarah, I know this is going to sound crazy, insane … but … this isn't real. All of this isn't real," he said.
Sarah's face turned pale and she took a step back. She kept staring silently at Chuck for several moments. When she finally did speak, she spoke very slowly as if weighing each word carefully.
"What do you mean this isn't real?"
"All of this, this town, this neighborhood, this … this life, Sarah, it's all a setup, a fake. We're not really married, you're not a housewife, this isn't really our house, we don't really live here … it's all fake, it's all fake, Sarah, it's all fake to try to … to try to—"
She looked at him quietly for a moment as a mixture of emotions came across her face – bafflement, fear, concern, disbelief, and then anger.
"What … what do you mean? What do you mean we're not really married?"
Those words came out softly from her mouth. And before Chuck could reply, she repeated the words again, only this time, louder and with fury.
"What do you mean we're not really married? WHAT DO MEAN WE'RE NOT REALLY MARRIED? WHAT DO YOU MEAN?"
Before Chuck could respond, she stepped forward and shoved him back against the counter.
"I AM YOUR WIFE AND I LOVE YOU! YOU ARE MY HUSBAND AND YOU LOVE ME! I KNOW YOU DO! YOU CANNOT TELL ME THAT ISN'T REAL. WE LOVE EACH OTHER AND WE ARE MARRIED. IT'S REAL, IT'S REAL!"
"Sarah, Sarah … please listen to me, please! Of course I love you, I've always loved you. But … this whole thing … this town … this life …." Chuck paused as he realized that he was sputtering and sounding crazy, that he was losing the argument, losing Sarah, who started shouting again.
"WE ARE MARRIED. WE HAVE BEEN MARRIED. WE ARE MARRIED AND WE LOVE EACH OTHER. THAT'S REAL, IT'S REAL. YOU CAN'T TELL ME IT ISN'T REAL. I KNOW YOU AND I KNOW YOU LOVE ME. YOU CAN'T TELL ME THAT YOU DON'T LOVE ME AND THAT ISN'T REAL. YOU DO LOVE ME! YOU DO!"
Her shouting practically shook the walls as tears started streaming from her eyes. Chuck felt badly but he had to get through to her, he had to get both her and Sallie out of here before it was too late – if it wasn't already.
"Yes! Yes! Yes! I love you! I've always loved you! That's real, that's real Sarah. Please, please listen to me. This is all a setup, a trap … this is …." He rubbed his hand through his hair, trying to think of something, anything that would help him get through to her.
He held out his hands and spoke quietly. "Sarah, this life, this town, this … this whole thing isn't us. I don't really work at Fulcrumatic, you are not really a housewife. You … you are … you are a CIA agent and … and … this is all a trap, a trick to try to turn you and me … it's all part of a brainwashing, a … you're really a CIA agent and they're trying to convert you to the other side with this life, this marriage … it's all fake, it's … it's all pretend, it's –"
He paused as he realized that his rambling was sounding more insane by the second. And during that pause, a small voice spoke from the entryway to the kitchen. "Mommy? Daddy?" And there stood Sallie, looking very frightened and very concerned. Both Chuck and Sarah turned toward the little girl.
"Mommy? Daddy? What's wrong? Why are you yelling?"
Sarah turned back toward Chuck. "I suppose you are going to tell me that she isn't really our daughter?"
Chuck looked down at Sallie with sadness. She was a wonderful girl but she wasn't theirs. She was someone that Fulcrum had brainwashed into believing that he and Sarah were her parents. He turned back to Sarah who looked at him with panic and horror.
"Don't you dare, don't you dare, DON'T YOU DARE!" She was screaming and crying at the same time. She rushed over to Sallie, snatched the girl up in her arms and clutched her tightly.
"THIS IS OUR DAUGHTER! OUR DAUGHTER! SHE IS REAL! SHE IS REAL! THIS IS OUR DAUGHTER!"
Sallie looked up at Sarah in fright, not knowing what to say. Chuck tried to say something, tried to salvage the situation. They had to leave before it was too late. But he didn't know what to do. He walked toward Sarah. "Sarah, please listen to me. We can talk about this later but we need to leave. All three of us – together – need to leave now! We have to go, we have—"
"Why are you doing this Chuck? Why are you saying all of this? Why? Why? Do you want a divorce? Do you no longer love me? Do you want to leave us?"
"No, no, no, no … I don't want that at all. I love you. I want to be with you forever. Sarah, please, we need to get out of here, we need to—"
"Is it Jill? Do you want to be with Jill? IS THAT IT? DO YOU WANT TO LEAVE ME FOR JILL? IS THAT IT? IS THAT IT?" Sarah screamed as Sallie wailed.
"Sarah, please, listen to me—"
Before he could say anything more, Sarah, sobbing, ran down the hall to the bedroom with Sallie and slammed the door shut. He heard the lock click in place.
Chuck stared down at the empty hallway and at the locked door. "Well … that could have gone better," he said out loud.
He walked back into the kitchen, placed his hands on the counter and bent down and tried to think of a way out of this. He could go ahead and try to escape on his own and then bring back help. But he knew that he could not and would not leave without Sarah. There was no way that he would even consider going on without her. He would never leave her.
"Come on Bartowski think, think," he said out loud.
And then he heard a "Tsk, tsk, tsk" sound behind him. He leaned up, turned around and found Jill standing in the kitchen entryway with her arms crossed and smiling at him.
"Chuck, Chuck, Chuck," she said while shaking her head. "Poor sweet Chuck. All you wanted to do was to help Sarah and what happened? She wouldn't even listen to you. Poor sweet Chuck, poor sweet Chuck."
Chuck didn't know what to say. So he stood there staring at Jill, who still smiled at him. "Do you know what your problem is Chuck?" Without waiting for a reply, Jill told him.
"Your problem is still the same thing that I told you was your problem back during our Stanford days when you professed your undying love for me at the top of that ferris wheel. I told you then and I'll tell you now. Your problem is that you talk too much."
Jill's smile got brighter as she uncrossed her arms and then pointed a gun at Chuck.
END CHAPTER SIX