I tried, but I couldn't see the curve

That's running round the earth until I saw you

And though the days will turn to nights

We'll never see the stars

If we stay where we are

We can go where we want, make up rules

Be a part of it, stop passing through

And we will see this world anew

So let's leave all our doubt and fear for wonder

I'll hold you up, we won't go under

"Move To The Mountains"

Clock Opera

May 22, 2036

Bishop, California

It was Del who carried Chuck, unconscious, out of the cabin and into the van, after Casey told Sarah he was definitely too old for this shit. Stephen was capable, but Del insisted. Stephen was taller than his father, but he did have more of his father's sinewy frame, reminiscent of him at a younger age. Instead, Stephen took care of his mother, who was barely holding herself together after everything they had just been through, with the threat of more worrisome events before they were truly alright again.

Stephen watched Del heave himself upward, Chuck positioned over his shoulder and down his back in a fireman's carry, into the van through the side door. His Aunt Ellie was there, directing Del for the proper position to place Chuck. Cozette rushed to Sarah and Stephen moved quickly to lean into the van. It was strange, but no one was talking. The silence was heavy, the only noise anyone could hear was the soft rustling of the wind as it swirled outside the van, parked along the road. Del huffed, panting, as the burden of Chuck's weight was relieved as he placed the older man onto one of the cots situated at the back of the van.

Stephen saw his aunt, how ashen she looked when she got a good look at her brother. Her face pinched with worry. Leaning into the van, the sound of the wind was replaced by the humming drone of the computers and accompanying equipment inside the van. He swallowed over the painful lump in his throat as he watched Ellie, teary-eyed, touch the side of Chuck's face. "Don't worry, little brother," she whispered. Stephen's own eyes filled with tears, listening to the soft sentiment that the passage of time had done nothing to diminish.

"Thanks, Del," Stephen said softly, smiling crookedly at his partner and friend.

"Captain," Stephen heard Casey say, as he appeared slightly behind and to Stephen's right.

"General," Del said crisply, straightening himself, dodging the equipment fastened to the roof of the van as he saluted.

"As you were, Delson," Casey replied, giving a tight nod.

Ellie had already started working, fastening Chuck's wrists in the restraints on the cot. She stood, toggled the computer several times, and started to adjust the monitors she needed to attach to Chuck's head. "I need Jacques," she called gently. Casey called him over his shoulder. "Give me ten minutes, Stephen. Then we'll be ready," Ellie said, her lips creased in a soft, nervous smile. Stephen nodded to her, then turned back to the rest of his family.

They moved out of the way as Del jumped down from the van and Jacques replaced him, climbing inward. Casey knew Captain Delson professionally, but Del had never met any of Stephen's family. Sarah moved first, taking a step forward towards Del. She held out her hand politely.

"I'm Sarah Bartowski," she said, a watery smile on her otherwise grimy and tear-streaked face.

"Captain Victor Delson," Del replied, grasping her hand firmly. He released her hand and bowed significantly at the waist. "May I just say, ma'am, what an honor it is to finally meet you." Sarah blushed a bit as she heard the sincere admiration in her son's partner's voice. Del spun on his heel to turn back to the van. "I look forward to meeting your husband as well, once this mission is successful."

Stephen saw the smile on his mother's face stiffen as she forced it, her newly prodded worry evident again. "Thank you so much, Captain, for your offer to be here…and help."

"It was the least I could do, ma'am," Del offered. Sarah had a difficult time processing Del's tone, almost reverent. It took a while for Sarah to realize Del was reacting the way he was because he knew of their reputations, hers and Chuck's, when they had worked for the U.S. government's intelligence agency. It had been so long since anyone they had come in contact with knew about any of that; it was easy to get lost in ordinary life and forget it all.

While Del had been talking, Cozette moved to the side and embraced Stephen. The actual hug was brief, but she kept her hands around his waist and her head against his chest as they turned their attention outward again.

Smirking, Casey addressed Del. "Isn't it fan-effing-tastic being partnered with a couple?"

"Sir?" Del asked cautiously, not sure how familiar he could let himself be. Casey winked gently.

"It could be worse, General," Del replied with a crooked smile. "I didn't have to train either one of them, Sir."

"Huh," Casey grunted in agreement.

"Stephen," Ellie said as she leaned out of the van door. Everyone spun towards her as she'd spoken. "We're ready." She paused, straightening her mouth into a thin line. "We have to hurry. Chuck is already stirring. We need to start while Chuck is unconscious."

Cozette squeezed him, burying her face near his neck. She wanted to tell him to be careful, but there was no extra caution he could take that would minimize the danger. So instead, she savored the feel of his arms around her. "I love you," she whispered, and then kissed his cheek before she released him.

"You know, if he had a say, your father would never agree to you risking yourself for him," Sarah told her son.

"Well, it's good that he's been overruled in his incapacity, then, isn't it?" Stephen replied.

He climbed into the van, then turned and reached down to grab his mother's hand and pull her up. They disappeared to the back of the van.

XXX

Claustrophobic was an understatement, Stephen thought, as he laid down on the cot beside his father. His aunt was seated at the computer to his left. Jacques was seated at the other computer, on Chuck's right side. Sarah knelt on the floor of the van in between her husband and her son.

The image of Chuck, electrodes across his forehead, was so similar to how he had looked when the Belgian had tried to extract the Intersect from him, it was unsettling. Ellie had opened Chuck's shirt and placed electrodes on his chest. All of Chuck's chest hair was gray, and Sarah focused there rather than anywhere else. It helped keep her in this time, rather than allowing herself to slip into the past and the memory of her despair.

"Ok, Stephen," Ellie sighed. She stood and started to place the electrodes on her nephew, a mirror image to the locations on his father. She talked, slowly and methodically, as she worked. "The program we have, the prototype I told you about…it's a one–shot deal. We have no way to store the entire thing. The program scans your brain, copies the pattern, then simultaneously transfers it to Chuck. Your pattern replaces the primer. It's the structure only, not your memory engrams or anything like your grandfather was able to construct."

It sounded easy. Her matter of fact explanation contradicted the worry in her tone. She finished applying the monitors before she spoke again. "There is a very minor chance that the…primer could migrate to you, because of the unique structure of your brain."

"Wait, Ellie," Sarah gasped. "Why didn't you tell me that before?"

Ellie sighed sadly. "Because it doesn't make any difference. Stephen would have insisted no matter what, you know that."

Stephen's gaze stayed fixed ahead as he absorbed the information. His aunt was right of course. The risk to him was inconsequential. He glanced at his mother out of the corner of his eye and nodded ever so slightly. Ellie's hand on his shoulder pulled Stephen's attention back to her, from his mother.

"All I can say to you, Stephen," Ellie said. "If you feel something like that…something there, fight it. Master it. Your brain is powerful enough to resist any of that."

"My Dad had that thing in his head for 15 years, Auntie. What if I don't know anything is there to fight?" Stephen asked her.

Ellie had tears in her eyes when she replied. "Your grandfather was…amazing. He thought of all of this, and he executed all of it. Everyone who came in contact with his work thought he was a genius, amazed at what he had achieved. But he based all of that on your dad and me. And everything he was trying to do, perfect, is inside of you. Your brain, your ultimate Intersect, was what my father…your grandfather…dreamed of doing. I have no doubt about what you are capable of, Stephen." She smiled, patted the top of his head, then ran her hand down his cheek. "Believe in it for yourself."

He smiled at his aunt. Right before he closed his eyes, he felt his mother's hand, crushing his in her own. "Your dad was so…upset…when he thought you having an Intersect was going to ruin your life. You saved me when you were just a baby. Now you're saving him. You may be able to save the entire world, but just know…you saved everything that matters to us already. We love you," she finished, leaning in and kissing his cheek.

He was already asleep…slowly descending into the hell that his father's mind had become.

XXX

As soon as he was old enough to understand, Stephen had learned just what it was inside his father's head that allowed him to converse with his own father, long deceased in actuality. When he was younger, he would marvel at the idea, wondering how it would feel to have someone else's voice in his head, and be able to speak to that person, just like they were really there and listening. As he'd aged, Stephen came to understand how special that was, what a true gift his father had.

Did his father still think it was a gift? Stephen asked himself, not sure where he was or if anyone could hear him.

Always, Stephen heard. Chuck's voice. He heard it clearly, though Chuck was nowhere in sight…wherever this was.

Stephen felt like he was floating, like he was in a giant tank of dark water, but he wasn't wet. He forced himself to focus. He could feel his hands and his feet, hear his own heart beat and his own breath. Was he blind? he thought. He knew his eyes were open, but there wasn't the tiniest bit of light visible anywhere.

Dad, can you hear me? Stephen called out, wanting to hear Chuck again.

"I'm here, Stephen," Chuck said, as he suddenly appeared at Stephen's side. Everything was still dark, but he could see his father perfectly clearly. Contemporary, like he had looked today, minus the stress and strain that had left him feverish and haggard.

"What is this place, Dad?" Stephen asked him, disoriented.

"I wish I knew," Chuck sighed, chuckling to himself, like it was a private joke. "It must be my mind…like inside my head. Most people don't have company there…certainly not this much company. Like Cybil or whatever." Stephen watched his father shudder at the thought of what he'd said.

Suddenly he remembered. "Dad, you're right!" he said. "Aunt Ellie is fixing your Intersect…as we speak. She's using my brain."

Chuck's brow furrowed as he frowned. His tone sharpened. "That's dangerous! Why would Ellie let you do something like this?"

Stephen's face stayed frozen for several seconds before he answered. "There's no other way, Dad. Your personality was being undermined by the primer."

"What…what are you talking about?" Chuck asked him.

Stephen remembered what his mother had told him, what Chuck had told her he thought was actually wrong. His father had jumped to a wrong conclusion. "It wasn't another personality you uploaded. It was a program that was meant to tunnel under the Volkoff personality. It was destroying you instead."

Chuck looked away, tears clouding his eyes, as he understood the gravity of the situation he found himself in. "Your mother is here?" he asked softly.

"Of course she is, Dad. She loves you," Stephen told him. He paused, then continued. "Auntie is replacing the primer with my brain scan, which should reconstruct the Intersect inside your head. Can you feel it, Dad?" Stephen asked.

Chuck looked down at his own hands, marveling that they no longer shook, even in this mocked up version of reality. "Yes," Chuck said, drawing out the "s" as it hissed gently. He breathed a sigh of relief. "That's why you're here, in my head, right?" Chuck asked.

"Yes, Dad," Stephen replied with a quirky smile. "I haven't learned telepathy or anything like that, if that's what you're asking."

Chuck stayed smiling, but his eyes widened with reverent wonder. "I wouldn't be surprised, kiddo. You never fail to amaze me. You have no idea how proud of you I am."

Stephen choked on his emotion, the tenderness that swelled when his father used the nickname he had used when Stephen was little, combined with his beaming pride. Eventually, he found his voice, raspy and broken. "This won't last. But I'm glad I got to experience this, even just once. I always wondered what that was like…when you talked to your father like this."

Stephen pulled his father close and hugged him. "I love you, Dad."

"I love you, too, Son," Chuck replied. He was in the process of releasing his son when something changed.

The darkness around them that was somehow no hindrance to their vision suddenly reddened, hazed, like the darkness seen behind the blood vessels in the eyelids. The air surrounding them seemed to crackle, hum, like a bolt of lightning was impending.

"What's happening?" Chuck asked warily.

Stephen grimaced, clenching his fists against some unknown pain. "Ahh…" he moaned, and raised his clenched fists to his temples, pressing them down.

"Stephen?" Chuck shouted, reaching for his son. Stephen sank down to his knees, and Chuck dropped down in front of him. "What's happening?" Chuck shouted again.

In the background darkness, a cone of light appeared. Chuck could see it clearly. It was himself, on a table, electrodes attached to his forehead and chest. Beside him, his son was in an identical state. Sarah was there, in between them, leaning over her son. Ellie was behind them at a computer. Chuck could see medical information, vitals displayed prominently. Ellie was frantic, typing so fast Chuck saw her fingers as a blur. She stopped typing suddenly, pulled out a penlight from her pocket and lifted Stephen's eyelids, one at a time.

Stephen was seizing. Chuck knew it before he heard Ellie say it. This was just a manifestation, Chuck knew, what his brain perceived as reality. His son's suffering before him a representation of what was happening to him in the real world.

He grabbed Stephen by his shoulders and shook him. "Fight this!" he ordered. "You can do this."

Stephen gasped, struggling to breathe. He shook his head side to side as if to clear the pain. "Dad, I can't see," Stephen told him, his eyelids fluttering uselessly over his unseeing blue eyes.

"Don't give up, Stephen," Chuck told him.

"Tell yourself you can see. Because you can."

Chuck gasped, his hands falling away from Stephen's shoulders. "Dad?" he asked, as he was suddenly in his father's presence again. He was the one who had spoken to his namesake.

"Wha–wha–what…I don't…I don't…" Stephen stuttered, baffled by the additional voice that he didn't recognize. Dad, his father had said. That was his grandfather's voice! The man who had died two years before he was born.

"You can see," Stephen J. Bartowski told the manifestation of his grandson. "The pain is like an ant. Crush it…and you're free."

Stephen sucked in his breath and focused his thoughts. Crush the pain. See the light.

It was slow, like watching a minute hand on a clock, imperceptible change that eventually produced results. The pain receded, like a bird in flight, soaring away on the breeze. He opened his eyes and saw the cone of light, a stage-set of what the real world looked like.

"He's winning. I knew he could do it, Sarah. I knew it." Ellie, laughing through tears.

"Of course he could. He's a Bartowski," Chuck's father said.

With the surreal quality of a waking dream, Chuck's son turned to regard his grandfather for the first time, through his own father's mind's eye. Chuck's son didn't know what to say, staring with his mouth hanging open.

"You certainly look like your father, Stephen," Chuck's father said, laughing.

He looked the way he did in the only photograph of him Stephen had ever seen–the wedding photographs from his Aunt Ellie and Uncle Devon's nuptials. He had already died before his own parents had married, he recalled. His hair was sandy brown, slightly unkempt and his eyes were clear green, just like his Aunt Ellie's. His intelligence radiated from him. The warmth of his smile was comforting.

"Grandpa?" Stephen finally choked out.

Chuck's father took a deep breath and lifted his chin, his eyes shining. "Never thought I'd ever hear that word. Even way back. I didn't realize how…nice…it sounds."

Stephen rushed forward, without thinking, and embraced his grandfather. Gift, indeed, he thought, amazed, as he felt the warmth of the hug.

When Chuck's father finally pulled back, there were tears standing on the skin beneath his eyes. "You wanted to fix things. Make up for what happened to you and your sister. To make sure that nothing like that ever happened again." He turned to his grandson. "All of that…was for you and your sisters. So promise me one thing."

"Of course," Stephen said, not even thinking what his grandfather would ask would be beyond his ability to do.

"When you're done saving the world, save room for a family," he said with a smile. "That's the only way you could ever really save the world."

Chuck's father gestured back to the cone of light. Now Cozette was there, holding Stephen's hand, wiping tears away from her cheeks. "She followed you…because she loves you. But she wants that too. You know that."

The three men stood, shoulder to shoulder, in a line, observing as both Sarah and Cozette kissed them. It was clearly written on Stephen's face, how much he loved his fiancee, as he watched the image of her bent over him in concern.

"I've seen that same look before," Chuck's father said, looking at Stephen and then back at Chuck. He winked and smiled…and then faded to the darkness.

XXX

Stephen opened his eyes.

He felt refreshed, like he'd had a good night's rest. He felt a cool hand on his cheek, another warm hand against his bare chest, just under the button placard on his shirt. "Hey, Babe," he whispered, reaching up his hand and touching the back of Cozette's head.

"Are you ok?" she asked desperately, shifting forward to look down at him, studying him carefully.

"I think so," he said quietly. "Aunt Ellie?" he called, knowing she was near.

"Fit as a fiddle," Ellie quipped. He turned to see the first genuine smile on his aunt's face he had seen in a very long time. "It started to migrate…but you shut it down on your own."

"Not on my own," Stephen murmured, looking at the ceiling of the van as he pondered his past experience. "I talked to your father. My grandfather," he said in wonder.

Ellie fell to sit in her chair, overwhelmed. "Oh..." she gushed. "That's incredible," she said in a hushed voice. "Chuck tried to explain what those experiences were like. I never imagined you would…experience that, like this."

"Dad was there, too, talking to me like that," Stephen told her. "Damn it, I sound like The Wizard of Oz," he grumbled under his breath.

"Well," Cozette said, holding in her laughter, "there is no place like home."

"Success then, on both ends," Jacques said from the other side of the van. "The primer is no longer detectable in Chuck's scan. See for yourself." He pressed a button, revealing the image Ellie had seen before, without the angry red lines that had slowly taken over.

"Thank god," Sarah whispered. She laid against Chuck's chest, still kneeling at his side.

"His brain took the brunt of it," Ellie told Sarah. "Let him rest. A few hours of sleep and he should be fine."

"I'm not leaving, Ellie. You knew that, right?" Sarah said rapidly, tucking her arms more firmly around her husband.

"Wasn't expecting you to move, no, not at all," Ellie said, laughing in return.

"Good," Sarah sighed. All four conscious occupants of the van laughed, almost in unison.

It almost obscured the sound of Casey, in the doorway of the van, grunting in disgust at what he was witnessing.