"I'm sorry, Jill. I can't help you with this. I have to go now. I'm going to contact the inspector to assign a different detective for this case." Chuck turned around abruptly and stormed out of the precinct without a second glance.

Jill motioned to chase after Chuck and find out as to how he knew this Sarah Walker but before she was able to do so, Sarah Walker was standing, knocking in the two-way mirror. "Officer, we need to talk."

Jill walked into the interrogation room and studied Sarah with a measuring look. Sarah remained seated and stood up as she entered. She motioned towards the empty seat in front of her and looked at Jill.

"Please, take a seat."

~0~0~

Chuck had gotten over his hatred of cemeteries years before this moment. Not that he liked them especially; just that there was something oddly comforting about how they were: silent and peaceful. All the residents were sleeping, so nobody could point out the fact they weren't coming home. He had soon grown tired of people pointing that out.

Death is a natural thing... without it the balance would be lost. That one fact was what was keeping Charles Bartowski sane and he knew it, yet as he steadily walked through the far overgrown grass, it didn't mean he had to like it. Of course he didn't like it, how can you like something that has taken everyone you have ever loved from you? He accepted it as much as even his mind could without ever truly thinking over the secrets that were only kept alive by his knowledge. When he had been young he had stated that nothing truly dies until it had been completely forgotten.

Even he, the person who had said it, had not understood it until the last grave had been placed into the fertile ground. Yet, since that moment, he understood what he said because as long as someone remembers them, the dead aren't truly gone. They remain, if only to visit you in your nightmares. He knew that well.

After all, the shadows under his hollow eyes showed how his dreams haunted him- with all the force of the blood and screams that he couldn't forget. His brilliant mind's only fault was that he remembered everything too well. He remembered every detail from how the lights flickered to how many little buttons had been still rolling on the wet ground.

Have you ever lost every little bit of humanity you had left? For several weeks after opening that door, Chuck had. He'd gone numb and he had never really recovered. He had lost everything because he was seconds too late. Seconds.

Asking if you know what that feels like would be stupid because surely you can't lose everything in a second.

It's not possible, is it?

Chuck really did wish that it was.

His eyes remained watching straight ahead, as if avoiding looking at all the resting places that surrounded him. There was only one place he had to be, and he was slowly getting there.

Chuck walked towards two tombstones located in a hidden place in the cemetery. He knelt and cleared the few dead leaves that had started accumulating on top of them. He sighed gently when pulling the weed out of the ground, silently cursing it for growing so quickly. The writing on the black headstone was simple, no emphasis or pretentious curls:

Stephen J. Bartowski

1945-2000

Brilliant Scientist, Loving Father, Supportive Husband

Less than a meter away from it lay another black headstone, the writing in the same condition as the first- and the weeds also mocking it as they grew and kept living:

Mary Elizabeth Bartowski

1945-2000

Loving Mother, Supportive Wife

He gently put the basket of colorful flowers he had brought with him and placed it right in the middle of the two tombstones, and right above another one (still pure white) which had no weeds. His eyes remained on the soil where the weeds hadn't begun to grow yet. Nothing but the leaves covered the horrific brown soil under the basket. Finally, his sad eyes moved to the curly and still so smooth writing which took his heart and smashed it every single time he saw it:

Eleanor Faye Bartowski

1975-2011

Caring Sister, Great Friend, Awesome Fiancée

He let his hands linger longer on Ellie's tomb and felt the familiar sting of tears as he quickly blinked, refusing to let himself feel all the hurt these visits caused him to feel. He refused to deal with all the anguish because it could wait for another day.

"Hey, El." He smiled painfully and sat down with his legs in front of him. "I miss you, sis." He covered both his eyes with both hands and choked out. "I miss you so much." No tears spilled yet the burning continued.

He interlocked his fingers and placed it under his chin as he continued to look at Ellie's tomb in fondness. "Sorry I haven't come for a while. Work has been hell. Literally." He let out a tiny sigh as he moved his knees up to his chest, resting the side of his face onto them and wrapping his arms around his legs like a child might.

"Do you remember when Mom and Dad left and you told me you wouldn't leave?" Chuck barely stopped his voice from breaking as he joked. "You lied, didn't you?"

Chuck let out a strangled laugh as he turned his attention to his Dad's grave. "I know I promised that I would protect this family. But I was too late." Chuck covered his eyes with his left hand and looked up. "I'm sorry, Dad." His eyes flashed back to the white grave as he ran a finger over the first three letters of her name. "Don't worry Ellie. We can have pancakes another day. I'll be on time and then I'll cook dinner for you. Awesome can go out and we'll have a night of pancakes and stupid films. Just like we planned." He pulled his hand away.

Chuck remained in that position for a while until he felt ready to take his left hand away from his eyes… to face reality but his caller had other ideas. His phone rang noisily from his pocket and he audibly groaned. He took a few breaths to gain his composure as he took the phone from his pocket and looked at the screen: Inspector Yagami.

He got up from the ground and patted his jeans. Pressing the green button, he stuck the phone in his ear.

"Hello, boss."

"Bartowski! Why the hell aren't you at the precinct!" His boss screamed at him through the phone. His boss was usually nice so he must really be pissed off.

"Boss, I can't do this one. It hits too close to home. Can't Bryce do it?" Chuck asked as he began walking away from the people that had once formed his home.

"Bartowski, I don't care about your lady feelings. Get your head out of your ass and get to work!" And with that, he hung up.

Chuck barely looked back as he whispered, "Yeah. We'll have pancakes another day."

It's not like the dead can correct you.

~0~0~

Jill sat there, stunned at the revelations that the person sitting in front of her just said. In fact, her jaw might be hanging. Taking control of her bearings, she looked at Sarah with a confused yet curious expression.

"So let me get this straight, there is a psychopath roaming this city as we speak." Jill raised an eyebrow in Sarah's direction.

Sarah let out a sigh in exasperation and nodded. "Yes, his name is Daniel Shaw and he's not really a psychopath but he is a trained agent who is working with an enemy organization called The Ring."

Jill nodded dumbly. "Yes. Yes. And you're working for the CIA?"

Sarah just nodded at her to continue. "And you worked with a ghost killer from the NSA and his partner but it turns out that his partner was a traitor and captured said NSA agent?" Jill looked at Sarah with disbelief in her tone.

"Look, Officer, if you're not willing to help just say so already! You're wasting my time! My partner could be dying as we speak!" Sarah stood up anger and annoyance.

Jill appraised her with a questioning look. "And why can't your Agency help you in rescuing your partner?"

Sarah was already at the end of her rope and this police officer is just asking for it. "Because he is a freakin' ghost agent! And the point of them being called "ghost agents" is because they're GHOSTS-meaning they're under the radar so the Agency cannot be held responsible for them!" Sarah punctuated each sentence with a pound on the table.

Okay. So maybe that was a tad bit too much, Sarah thought to herself (while also trying not to hiss at the pain from hitting the table so many times).

Jill opened her mouth to answer when both of them heard a knock on the 2-way mirror. With a heavy sigh, Sarah ran a hand through her hair.

"Your mirror's knocking, maybe you should get that." She turned away from Jill and paced in the interrogation room. Jill just looked at her in disbelief but stood up to walk out of the room.

~0~0~

She walked out to see Chuck looking at Sarah Walker's pacing form inside the room.

"Chuck! You're back! Thank God!" Jill approached him in relief. "That woman is insane!"

Chuck looked back at her blankly but she can see the anger dangerously bubbling in the surface. "Why did you have to call the Inspector? I was trying to talk to him and make him see reason! Jill, I cannot be on this case!"

Jill was tired of everyone screaming at her for the past hour. Combined with the hangover she still has and the fatigue she was clearly feeling, her body was just protesting and was looking for a person to vent to.

"Go to hell, Chuck! I've been here all day when I'm supposed to be on my honeymoon in Hawaii! Do you think that I'm happy to be here? What the hell got you so bitchy about this case, anyway?" Jill looked at Chuck with raised arms.

Chuck had a look of pure hatred on his eyes. The same eyes, which have been following Sarah's pacing form inside the room. After a few more minutes, his gaze saddened as it turned to her:

"It was her people that killed Ellie…" He whispered brokenly. "Forgive me if I'm trying to restrain myself from killing her." He looked at her sadly before turning his attention back to the unsuspecting form of a pacing Sarah Walker.