Saving Moscow, Chapter 7 (7/9)
Author: dettiot
Rating: T
Summary: Fulcrum may be nearly defeated, but the greatest struggle yet is still to come for Chuck and Sarah. Sent undercover at Volkoff Industries, Sarah worries about losing herself. Back in Burbank, Chuck worries about his future. Will they defeat their enemies in time for their dream wedding and get their happily ever after? The fourth story in the Finding Home series.
Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck. No copyright infringement intended.
Author's Note: Let's check in with Chuck and see what's going on with him as he waits for Sarah to get extracted and come home . . .
XXX
As he followed Ellie into the courtyard outside the Woodcombs' apartment, Chuck couldn't help feeling that things were good. Of course Sarah was still gone, but not for much longer: in this morning's briefing, Graham had announced that Sarah had requested extraction-and it was scheduled to happen in just a few days. With just over two weeks left for the wedding, that was perfect timing. But then, it was Sarah. He hadn't expected anything less.
Ellie had called him this morning, asking if he was free for dinner tonight. It wasn't that unusual of a request, and he hadn't seen Ellie for a few weeks due to their respective work schedules. So he had been happy to agree to dinner.
They had spent the evening eating and talking, enjoying their time together. Watching Ellie as she laughed, Chuck couldn't help thinking how happy she looked. There was a glow about her: all the signs of a woman who had a good life. Ellie had her career, her marriage, her home, her friends and family. She had it all.
His big sister had always been an inspiration to him. Someone that he looked up to. It made him happy to see her happy. And it made him think that soon, he'd have it all, just like she did.
"Sure you don't want to come in for some ice cream?" Ellie said, pausing by the front door of her apartment.
"Nah," Chuck said, patting his stomach. "I'm still really full from all that sushi. Plus, with the wedding coming up, I want to look good in my tux."
"You look good all the time now," Ellie said with a grin, dropping down onto a bench in the courtyard. "Not like my skinny, gangly brother."
Chuck smiled and sat next to her. "Don't tell Awesome, but he is right-exercise is pretty awesome."
Like always, Ellie rolled her eyes. "Don't call him that."
"Sorry, sis, but Devon is and will always be Captain Awesome to me," he said, grinning at her as he stretched his legs out.
"Great, the baby will call him Daddy Awesome then, and when I try to tell him or her that's not true, they'll say, 'But Uncle Chuck says that'," Ellie said, a big smile on her face.
"Like the baby will listen to me more than Dev-Wait." Chuck sat up, looking at Ellie with wide eyes. "Baby?"
Her smile became a bit softer, a bit more content. "I'm pregnant."
"Oh my God!" Chuck said, wrapping his arms around Ellie tightly. "Oh, this is great news-oh, no, I'm crushing the baby!" He pulled back, searching her face. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Ellie said with a laugh. "I'm only three months along-the baby is just three inches big at this point."
"But you're okay?" Chuck asked, feeling incredibly nervous. His sister was having a baby!
She took his hand, holding it tightly. "I'm really, really good. Devon and I got the news a few weeks ago, but . . . but I wanted to tell you in person, so I waited until I could see you. And I wish Sarah could have been here so I could tell you both."
He squeezed her hand. "I wish she could have been here, too."
"Especially since she'll have a bridesmaid who's a lot fatter than she was when she left," Ellie said, bumping Chuck's shoulder with her own.
"You're not fat-you're having a baby," Chuck said, hearing the awe in his voice. "Wow, Ellie."
"I know!" Ellie sounded equal parts excited and frazzled. "You think I can pull this off?"
Chuck looked at Ellie. "What? Of course you can-you've got Devon, and all your friends at the hospital, and you've got me and Sarah . . ."
Ellie still looked uncertain, so Chuck wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Hey. You are going to be a great mom. Because not only are you the best big sister in the world, but you also did a pretty good job bringing me up."
"Really?" she said softly, her hand lightly resting over her stomach.
"Really," he said, lightly kissing the top of her head. "You're gonna be an amazing mother."
She sniffled a little, leaning against him. "It's so silly . . . the other day, I was feeling bad because here I was, with plenty of people offering to help and Honey's been doing nothing but sending advice and baby monitors and even Devon's freaking out, too. And I had this moment when I wished Mom was here." Ellie huffed out a laugh. "Crazy, right?"
"Not crazy at all," Chuck said, rubbing her arm.
It was so tempting to tell Ellie what was going on. To let her know that their mom would be there in a few days. But telling her that would open up multiple cans of worms, including the biggest one of all: what he actually did.
More and more over the last few weeks, he had been thinking it was time to tell Morgan and Ellie and Devon about his job with the CIA. Being alone these months, having to pretend he had been talking to Sarah, had been tough. If they had known that Sarah was undercover and out of reach, it would have changed things. Made them understand how he had been acting. Plus, the guilt he felt about shutting out the people who loved him most-it had been increasing ever since Sarah left.
In the back of his mind, he had even started planning the best time and method for telling everyone. With Morgan, it could be casual. Although his best friend would probably be upset to find out that Bryce was a spy, too-giving Chuck and Bryce another thing in common that Morgan didn't share-Chuck hoped that Morgan would also be distracted by finding out that Chuck was a spy. Ellie and Devon, on the other hand, would mean a special dinner, with all of Ellie's favorite foods and plenty of time to talk things over and explain everything to her.
Now that Ellie was pregnant, thought, it would be even more important to keep her calm, to make sure her stress level stayed low. Because an unhappy, stressed-out woman couldn't be good for the baby inside her. So that meant his plans would have to wait and be implemented later, at some point down the road instead of not long after he got married to Sarah.
He just had to hope that his family would understand why he kept this major secret from them for so long. But he knew now that he had to tell them someday. Sarah was right-this wasn't something he could keep from them forever. Because he didn't want his family to not know what he did, something so important. He didn't want them to feel like they were shut out of his life.
Ellie took a deep breath and pulled away from him, brushing her fingers under her eyes. "Okay, enough tears. Because this is good news. The baby's due in February-I might have a Valentine's Day baby!"
"You always did envy the kids born on major holidays," Chuck said. "Except, of course-"
"Christmas babies," they said in unison.
His sister laughed. "Yeah, I always felt bad for the kids born on Christmas. But February is good. You should see how Devon is acting-he's so excited, but he's also incredibly nervous. He's already started reading baby books." She smirked a little. "It's like he suddenly became you."
"Hey, just because I like reading about things . . ." Chuck said, letting his voice trail off as his cell phone started ringing. Pulling it out of his pocket, he saw that it was Bryce. "Sorry, sis, it's work. Gimme a second, okay?"
"Come inside when you're done-I have to get these shoes off," Ellie said, standing up and fishing out her keys.
Chuck nodded and stepped away as he answered the phone. "Hey, Bryce."
"Hey, hope I'm not interrupting Bartowski bonding time," Bryce said, sounding amused.
"No, we were just talking. Guess what-Ellie's pregnant! I'm gonna be an uncle," Chuck said, feeling an ear-to-ear smile bloom on his face.
"Wow . . . congratulations," Bryce said, sounding a bit shocked.
"Bryce, buddy, the crush on Ellie? You've got let it go. Because believe it or not, Devon is really more awesome than you are," Chuck teased.
"I don't have a crush on Ellie," Bryce said in a sulky voice. "I was just surprised."
"Uh-huh," Chuck said, rocking back and forth on his heels and grinning.
"Shut up," Bryce retorted.
"Mature. Why were you calling again?" He lowered his voice. "Any word from Sarah?"
"No, nothing yet," Bryce said, sounding legitimately regretful. "I was wondering if you wanted to spend some time at the pier tomorrow. I'm craving salt water taffy."
"And I'm craving kicking your butt at the arcade games."
"You wish," Bryce retorted. "Meet up there around three? We can grab some dinner-loser pays?"
"Sounds good," Chuck said, smiling. He suspected that this wasn't about salt water taffy-not really. Bryce was really trying to keep him busy until Sarah returned, but he appreciated how his friend was looking out for him. "See you at three."
"Bye," Bryce said, hanging up.
Chuck slid his phone back into his pocket. Now, things were better than good. Sarah would be home any day now, he was going to be an uncle, and he had great friends.
After so many months of worrying and waiting, it was nearly time to pick up his life again. Starting with reuniting with Sarah and celebrating their wedding, then spending time with his family, facing new challenges at work with the imminent defeat of Fulcrum . . .
Yeah, things were awesome.
With a grin, Chuck knocked lightly on Ellie and Devon's door and then stepped into their apartment, ready to spend some extra time with them and the future member of the family.
XXX
"So just how excited are you to have Sarah come home?" Bryce asked, firing the laser pistol at the video game screen.
"Do you even have to ask?" Chuck said, glancing at Bryce before returning to picking off giant alien bugs on his screen.
"Dumb question, I admit. But I was hoping it would rattle you a little. Because when you start thinking about Sarah, you get all dreamy-eyed . . . " Bryce snickered under his breath as he took out a few more attackers.
"Lame. Even for you, Larkin."
"Had to try, Bartowski. Damn, I wasted my teenage years on girls-I should have been playing video games." Bryce groaned when his character fell victim to the insect army.
Chuck grinned as he finished off the last bug and holstered the gun. "You want to try something else or are you ready to feed me?"
"Let's eat," Bryce said, sliding on his sunglasses. "Maybe with food you'll slow down."
"You're never going to beat me," Chuck said, adjusting his Dodgers hat as they stepped out of the dimly-lit arcade and into the sunshine. "Because I was the one who wasted my teenage years of video games."
Bryce chuckled. "But that worked out for you. Job, fiancée, family . . ."
"I got lucky," Chuck said, sliding his hands into the pockets of his jeans as they walked along the pier.
"'Cause you're a good guy. And good guys do finish first."
He looked at Bryce. Through the months without Sarah, it had been Bryce who had helped keep Chuck sane. Encouraging him at work, watching out for him, keeping his spirits up. It seemed like the strain was finally getting to Bryce, though, because he certainly seemed down.
"You're a good guy, too," Chuck said.
"Uh-huh, sure," Bryce said, eyeing Chuck over the tops of his sunglasses. "You just think everyone's a good person."
"That's not true. I'm not as naïve as I used to be," Chuck said, shouldering past a group of teenagers who were whispering to each other. "I know there's plenty of evil people in the world. So if I say you're a good guy, I mean it."
His friend blew out a breath. "Yeah, I know. I just . . . I didn't expect my life to turn out like this."
"Who does expect their life to work out, just as they planned it?" Chuck asked philosophically. "I mean, if mine had, I'd be making big money at a software company, getting ready to go out on my own and make a mint."
"Instead of the minor shekels you make as a government agent?" Bryce asked with a small grin.
"Exactly," Chuck said with a grin, before growing serious. "But that means I would have never met Sarah . . . never have gotten to spend a day like today with one of my best friends . . . I have to say, I'm glad that things didn't work out the way I planned them."
They walked in silence for a few moments, the sounds of dozens of conversations and the amusement park keeping the pause in conversation from becoming awkward.
"I don't know if I ever thought about what kind of life I wanted," Bryce said hesitantly. "Just . . . just what I didn't want."
"The life your parents had planned for you?"
He nodded. "Yeah. I knew I didn't want to work at my dad's company and sell insurance. So when I got recruited . . . I just kind of fell into this work."
Chuck nodded, looking at Bryce. He looked thoughtful, but not brooding or depressed. That was reassuring. Bryce had always seemed to have it made when they were in college: he was handsome, charming, a good student without needing to work very hard. The complete package. It hadn't surprised Chuck, after he had been recruited, to find out that Bryce already worked for the CIA. But to hear Bryce's doubts, after seeing him struggle to adjust to life beyond his work, was an eye-opening experience. And something that Chuck wanted to help him with. Knowing Bryce, though, it would have to be done slowly, subtly. So for now, it was probably better to not ask any questions and let Bryce open up in his own time.
"You want to buy me Mexican or seafood?" Chuck asked.
"Seems stupid to be this close to the ocean and not get seafood," Bryce said, smirking a little. "And we are not stupid."
"Nope," Chuck said, grinning at him. Bryce followed him as they cut through more of the crowd and got in line for one of the seafood restaurants along the pier. Once they were seated on the restaurant's patio with beers in front of them and an umbrella providing some shade, Bryce changed the subject.
"So how's everything with the wedding going? I guess with Sarah back soon, it's now a rush to the finish line."
Leaning back in his chair, Chuck took a healthy swallow from his beer. "Man, planning a wedding is hard. I mean, I helped a lot with Ellie's, but it doesn't compare when it's your own. And not having Sarah around . . ." Chuck shook his head. "The easiest decisions were the hardest, because I kept overthinking them and wondering if Sarah would like whatever I chose and what if she hated it?"
"And how is that different from you making any other decision in your life?" Bryce asked, lifting his eyebrows as he took a sip of his beer.
"This was so much worse," Chuck said. "Like, tablecloth color. I spent an hour talking with Ellie about the color of the tablecloths during the reception. And you saw how I was with the band vs. DJ question."
Bryce groaned. "I had nearly forgotten that."
He winced a little. "Sorry."
Waving his hand in the air, Bryce batted away his apology. "It's okay. But you're ready to go now?"
"Yeah, pretty much," Chuck said, resting the bottle of beer on his knee. "The one thing left is something that Sarah wanted to do."
"The dress, right?" Bryce shook his head. "She's going to be cutting it close."
"You have seen my fiancée, right?" Chuck asked. "Blonde, about five foot eight, supermodel gorgeous with a figure to match? Any dress would look perfect on her."
Bryce rolled his eyes. "Yes, I do remember what Sarah looks like. But two weeks to get a wedding dress is not a lot of time."
"I know," Chuck said, peeling the label off his beer. "But she'll do it. She's Sarah, she can do anything."
"Is that really good, though?" Bryce asked, leaning forward in his chair a little. "To put so much on her. To think she's Wonder Woman and Jean Grey, rolled up in one even-hotter woman?"
"What, you think I don't see Sarah's flaws?" Chuck laughed a little. "Believe me, I do."
"Then tell me," Bryce challenged. "What makes Sarah less than perfect?"
That made Chuck sit back and really think this through. It was true, he knew Sarah had flaws like any other person. But actually talking about them with someone other than her was different from just thinking about Sarah and all the quirks that made her into the woman she was.
"Well . . . she's not an early riser, at all. And her feet get really cold, so I started trapping them under mine and warming them up, so I wouldn't brush up against those ice blocks in the middle of the night."
"That's it?" Bryce asked. "She's a slugabed with cold feet? Those are charming foibles, not out-and-out flaws."
Chuck sighed and took a sip of beer. "Okay . . . but I just want it on record that I'm only doing this because you asked." He waited for Bryce to nod in agreement, then he plunged in. "Sarah is amazing. But . . . she's really reserved. I still don't know a lot about her past-she didn't want her father at the wedding, although I think that was more because she knew he couldn't be there. Not that I know why he couldn't be there. And she's never talked about her mother. I just worry that she's holding so much in, stuff that she could talk over with me, with Ellie, with you even, and deal with it. Because with all of that inside her, how can she really process anything?"
Bryce opened his mouth to speak but Chuck just kept going. "She thinks I'm the smart one, when she's so much more intelligent than she gives herself credit for. Just in general, she's way too hard on herself and holds herself to such high standards. I worry what's going to happen when she fails and if it will send her into some kind of spiral-because it would be so hard to watch that. Oh, and she's a slob. She leaves her shoes everywhere and she never pre-rinses the dishes before she puts them in the dishwasher and if it wasn't for me, the bathroom would look like that one in the frat house, up on the third floor, the one that only got used by the pledges and was off-limits to any girls you liked."
"Okay, okay, okay!" Bryce said, cutting Chuck off. "I believe you. Sarah is not perfect and you are well aware of that." He looked at Chuck and let out a low whistle. "And here I thought you two were some fairy tale."
And now he felt bad. Like he had just betrayed Sarah. "All those things, though, they make her Sarah," Chuck protested. "And the thing is, not many people know about any of that. The fact that she's let me in enough to be herself around me, to be Sarah and not Special Agent Walker . . . that's special. That's what makes me love her."
"And the face of a supermodel and how good she looks in a bikini mean nothing?"
"They mean less than you'd think," Chuck said simply.
For a long moment, Bryce looked at Chuck. Then he grinned. "You've got it bad, Chuck. Like, seriously bad. It's a good thing you're marrying Sarah soon, or else you just might explode from all the sappiness. God, what's going to happen when Sarah gets pregnant?"
Chuck froze. Sarah, pregnant? Walking around with a baby bump, clear evidence to the whole world that she loved him enough to lose her figure, combining her amazing-yet-not-completely-perfect genes with his much-more-flawed ones? And what might their baby be like? Smart, yes. Hopefully with looks like Sarah's: the pale skin and the big blue eyes that held entire universes. Maybe with his sense of humor? If they had a baby, he'd have someone he could show the whole world. Movies and books, how to walk and talk, why it was good to share and how important friends and family were. And he'd get to do all that with Sarah by his side.
It was such an amazing, wonderful, absolutely crazy thought that he didn't know why it hadn't occurred to him before. Because it was a really, really awesome idea: having children with Sarah. Not to mention completely terrifying.
Snickers from the other side of the table pulled Chuck out of his reverie. "If you could see your face," Bryce said, still sniggering. "I could literally see the fear."
"You are such a jerk," Chuck said, balling up a napkin and tossing it at him. Bryce caught it easily and threw it back at Chuck. Before it could elevate into an outright war, Chuck let the napkin ball drop to the table. He grinned and pulled the menus from the holder on the table. "Just for that, you're definitely covering the drinks, too. Let's order some food, and another round." He held up his nearly-empty beer.
"If you're trying to drink me under the table, you'll need a lot more beers," Bryce said, opening up the menu.
Chuck huffed out a laugh and grinned at Bryce, his arms folded on top of his menu, when suddenly he heard the distinctive pops of mid-caliber gunfire. He looked around quickly, only to jerk when a fiery pain began to spread through his midsection. It hurt-it hurt so much . . .
There were lots of shouting and screams. People were pushing past his chair, trying to get into the restaurant and under cover, but Chuck couldn't move. Could barely breathe. All he could do was feel the pain pulsing through him, feel the sweat start to roll down his face, the sensation that he was on fire.
Bryce was yelling, too, directing people and helping them. That's what Chuck should be doing. He was a government agent, he should be helping . . .
But . . . oh, God. There was blood on his chest. A lot of blood, spreading across the t-shirt with the funny little monster on it, the shirt that Sarah had bought him for his birthday last year.
He really liked that t-shirt, too.
"Chuck!" Bryce's voice sounded frantic. "Where are you hit?"
Looking up at his friend, Chuck felt dizzy. Out of control. He tried to speak. There were things he needed to tell Bryce, so Bryce could tell Sarah. Like how much he loved her. That her engagement ring was in the box on his nightstand, next to the picture of them in Rome, right where he could see it just before he went to sleep and right after he woke up.
But instead, he could only pass out.
XXX
A slow, rhythmic beeping was the first thing he was aware of.
Then the cold.
His eyelids felt like they each weighed a ton. He tried to lift them, but once the lights in the room hit his eyeballs, he scrunched his eyes shut again.
What was going on? The last thing he remembered was . . . was . . .
Chuck felt a stab of panic. And it hurt. He told himself to calm down, but he just couldn't. He was cold yet sweaty and his chest hurt worse than anything he'd ever experienced, worse than any of the Intersect uploads or testing, and that beeping had gotten a lot faster-
A soft hand brushed his hair back from his forehead. "Chuck? Chuck, you need to calm down. Relax."
That sounded like Ellie . . . was something wrong with him? Had something bad happened?
"Ellie?" At least, he tried to say that. What came out sounded more like a slurred "Eellllllll?" But it must have been something she understood, with being a doctor and-doctor!
He must be in the hospital!
Once again, Chuck tried to get his eyes open, only to squint them shut. He felt like his heart was trying to pound its way out of his chest and it hurt to breathe.
"Charles Irving Bartowski! You will calm down and you will calm down now!"
Uh-oh. That was Ellie's serious voice. Coupled with his full name, it was enough to make his mind stop spinning in all directions, enough for him to focus on slowing his breathing and trying to do as Ellie told him.
"Easy, Chuck, easy." That sounded like Devon . . .
"That's it, Chuck." Bryce. Bryce was here, too. Oh, man, Ellie didn't know that Bryce was even in Los Angeles-and if Morgan hated Bryce, Ellie was a close second in that race. Had she yelled at him?
"You need to keep your heart rate nice and steady, Chuck, until we figure out what's wrong."
There were a bunch of noises, sounds he didn't recognize, and then there was an awareness of something cold moving through his veins and a feeling of relief. When he tried to open his eyes this time, the light didn't hurt as much. He got them halfway opened, enough to see Ellie pulling a syringe away from an IV in his arm.
Devon was standing behind Ellie, holding a chart and looking worried. Bryce was crouching beside Chuck, next to the-
Was he in a bathtub?
"What-what's wrong?" he asked, his words a little less clumsy than before.
Bryce rubbed his forearm. "You got shot. When we were having dinner at the pier?"
Now he remembered. Chuck tried to keep his reaction under control. He nodded a little.
"They got you into surgery nice and quick, since the bullets had perforated your lungs and were close to your heart," Devon explained. "It went fine, but now . . ."
Chuck tried to lick his lips, but there was no saliva in his mouth. Ellie leaned down and fed him some ice chips.
"So cold . . . why am I cold?" Chuck asked, looking up at his sister. His big sister, who was pregnant and looking so, so worried.
"You were out of surgery an hour and spiked a fever," Ellie said softly. "Up to 105. We've got you in an ice bath to try and keep your temperature down until we can figure out what's causing the fever."
He wrinkled his forehead. "Infection?" He had spent enough time reading Ellie's medical textbooks to know that a postoperative fever was usually caused by some kind of infection.
"You don't have any other symptoms of an infection," Ellie explained. "At least, not from any test we've run so far."
"But there's a few more we're going to run now," Devon said, leaning down and patting Chuck's shoulder gently. "Don't worry, Chuckster. We're gonna get to the bottom of this."
Chuck nodded a little. "Okay," he said, still feeling very confused and lost.
Ellie kissed his cheek. "We'll be back soon. Get some more rest, Chuck."
The last thing he wanted to do was make Ellie upset. Not when she was in her condition. So he did his best to smile at her, only for Ellie's face to crumple a little. She sniffed and hurried out of the room.
Turning his head as best he could, Chuck looked at Bryce. "What's wrong? The baby?"
Bryce shifted in his chair. "Um, no."
That wasn't good. "What is it?" He didn't know how much longer he'd stay awake, and he needed to make this time count. But a sheepish, uncertain Bryce meant trouble.
"I . . . I kinda told Ellie and Devon that you're a spy. And that me and Sarah are spies, too."
His eyes widened and he very nearly jumped out of the tub from his shock. "What?!"
"Calm down!" Bryce said, holding his hands up. "Calm down and listen!"
The pain tearing through his body nearly drowned out Bryce's words. But through all his grit and determination, Chuck made himself breathe, slowing his heart rate.
"You were shot with bullets that are lousy for sniper work, so it means the shooter had to be nearby," Bryce explained quickly. "But neither of us saw who shot you, and there were no eyewitness accounts, nothing on surveillance video, either. And then, when they got the bullets out of you, they found these."
He held up a small microchip. Chuck felt the first sign of a flash coming on, but that was the last thing he needed right now, so he quickly shut his eyes. "No-can't flash."
"Oh! Right. Sorry. Um, you can open your eyes now."
Getting his eyes back open was difficult, to say the least. Bryce had hidden the chip and waited until Chuck was looking at him to speak. "They're tracking chips. Used in smart bullets to identify a target in the middle of a crowd."
With his injuries and the revelation that Bryce had told his sister about his job, Chuck knew he wasn't thinking as fast as normal. His dazed expression must have clued Bryce in, because he rested a hand on Chuck's shoulder.
"You were targeted, Chuck. With some new kind of weapon that locked on to you. And more than getting shot, it looks like some kind of foreign agent was introduced into your body. Something that's . . . that's causing the fever," Bryce said, choosing his words carefully.
"But why tell Ellie?" he said, unable to see the reason for Bryce sharing that secret.
Bryce ran his hands through his hair. "It was an accident. I mentioned Sarah getting extracted, and . . . and she didn't know anything about it, and then she got like a bloodhound when I tried to cover up my mistake."
"Sarah!" Chuck yelped.
With the time difference between here and Russia, and how long he must have been in surgery and unconscious, Sarah had to be out of Volkoff's clutches by now. It was a long shot that she would be here already, but she should definitely be in transit. He hated the thought of Sarah not knowing what was going on, getting off the plane and dealing with the shock-
Suddenly, the look on Bryce's face made his thoughts skid to a halt. An icy feeling, one entirely different from what he was already experiencing, slithered down his spine.
There was something wrong with Sarah.
"Bryce-where's Sarah?"
"I'm sorry, Chuck . . . from what we can tell, she-she didn't arrive at the extraction point. And she hasn't checked in yet."
Chuck swallowed. He didn't know what he was feeling. There was too many emotions inside him to isolate just one, or two, or sixteen. No one knew where Sarah was. No one knew if Sarah was alive.
What if she was gone? What if Volkoff had killed her, what if he had shot her and watched the life drain from her eyes and just left her body somewhere?
His heart was racing. Like it was trying to outrun all these possible outcomes, trying to outrun a world that didn't have Sarah in it. And if in the effort to do so, it happened to give out, Chuck wasn't sure he cared at the moment.
After a few moments, Bryce patted his shoulder, a bit awkwardly. "There was a message from Sarah, though."
"There was?" Chuck asked, feeling hope flutter inside him.
Bryce nodded. "It came through on the Morse code transmitter on her watch, time-stamped Sunday at 7:33am, Moscow time. It said . . ." He paused, as if gathering up his courage. "It said, 'I love you, Chuck'."
How could four short, simple words make your heart break? Maybe it was because he knew Sarah. Knew that she would only use official communication to send a message like that if she thought she was facing death. If she knew there was no way out.
It was her way of saying goodbye.
He closed his eyes. He wanted to be alone. No, he needed to be alone. To have some time to act however he wanted, feel whatever he felt. Bryce probably thought Sarah's message would reassure him, give him hope. But it didn't. Because he knew she must be gone.
"I'll come back later," Bryce said quietly. There was the sound of rustling cloth and a chair being pushed back, and then there was just silence, only interrupted by the beeping of the heart monitor.
Time seemed to slow. Whatever Ellie had given him earlier must have had some kind of mild sedative, because he sank down into a hazy world of sound and soft light. A world where the pain was physical, not emotional.
At some point he must have actually drifted off, because the next thing Chuck knew, someone was shaking him by the shoulder.
"Go 'way . . ." he muttered.
"He's kind of asleep," Chuck heard Bryce say. There was a pause, and then Bryce spoke again. "He's okay for now. But you've got to stop hiding and get to a safehouse-you need to get extracted."
So Bryce was talking to someone on the phone. Someone that he was worried about. Chuck tried to recapture that lovely painless floating feeling, but the ice had mostly melted and his temperature must be going up because he could feel the heat coming off himself and he was curious about who Bryce was talking to. Because now he really sounded really worried.
"You've got to make contact with the Agency . . . there's no way you can find the antidote on your own, without any resources or backup . . . I'm the last person to tell anyone to go running to Graham, but this time you need to do just that . . . Damn it, Sarah, you should just get here and be with Chuck."
He hurt so much. But the pain became irrelevant when he heard Sarah's name.
"Sarah?" he said raspily, his voice sounding low and thick to his ears. He couldn't get his eyes open-all his energy was going to talking.
Bryce must not have heard him, because he kept talking to Sarah. "Believe me, Graham is scrambling every team and resource he has to cure Chuck. You need to debrief so they know where to go, what to target."
Chuck swallowed, wincing at the soreness of his throat, before trying again. "Sarah . . ." He didn't really know why Bryce was talking about work right now. After all, Sarah was home now, and the wedding was just around the corner. He hoped whatever was making him feel so weak wouldn't interfere with their plans. They had waited so long . . . he didn't want to wait any longer to have Sarah as his wife.
"Going all vigilante isn't going to save Chuck!"
God, Bryce was deaf. Putting his all into this one, Chuck managed to shout, "Sarah!"
"Chuck?" Bryce said. "Hold on, Sarah-Chuck, what is it?"
"Phone . . . gimme," Chuck said. He had to talk to Sarah. Had to tell her that whatever was going on, she could just forget about it and let other people deal with it.
"She's being so damn stubborn," Bryce said. "She won't come in."
What did that mean? He needed to talk to her. Tell her she only had to worry about the wedding. "Sarah . . ."
And then he felt the press of a cell phone against his ear. At first, all he heard was the soft crackle of static and the noise of a bustling urban center. Then, just above a whisper, he heard her.
"Chuck?"
"Sarah," he said, trying to sound stronger. He didn't want her to think anything would get in the way of the two of them getting married.
There was a choked sob. "Chuck, baby, I-I'm so sorry . . ."
"Shhh," he said. "S'okay. I'm okay. . ."
He needed to stop and take a few deep breaths, feeling the burn in his lungs. Over the phone, he could hear Sarah struggling and he wished she was here so he could hold her hand. So he could see her and tell her that it was okay. If they were together, they could do anything. Whatever was bothering her, he would do anything he had to do in order to fix it-and he knew that went double for her.
"It's my fault, what happened-and I know how to fix it. I just-I need to find the antidote for the thorium, and as soon as I've got that, I'm coming home."
It took all his concentration to follow what she was saying. And even then, he was still confused. But Sarah sounded like she knew what she was doing-so he just had to put his trust in Sarah.
"Back by August 20th," he said. "Got a date."
"I remember," she said, sounding more pulled-together already. "Nothing's going to make me miss that." She paused. "I love you, Chuck."
"Love you, Sarah," he said, feeling unconsciousness come closer and closer.
Just as he was passing out, he thought he heard her say, "Save you later." And that made the darkness seem just a little less scary.
Because Chuck knew that Sarah was out there. She was out there, saving people-saving him. And no matter how long the odds, she'd save the whole world and get back in time to find the perfect wedding dress and marry him.
She was Sarah Walker. She could do anything.
End, Chapter 7
