Chuck didn't want to believe it. Couldn't understand. Bryce couldn't be leaving. He'd only been back in Chuck's life for two months. That wasn't long enough. It wasn't nearly long enough. Couldn't the CIA understand? Chuck needed him. Being the Intersect, doing what he did, it would be impossible without Bryce there every minute, having his back.
"You can't leave."
It was the first thing he'd said since Bryce's announcement. Chuck could hear the panicked, plaintive note in his voice. He didn't care. There was only Bryce to hear, the walls of his apartment would give nothing away.
His friend smiled bitterly, sprawled on the couch while Chuck remained frozen just inside the living room. "I'm CIA property, Chuck," Bryce reminded him. "I go where they say."
"Bryce-"
"Chuck, I'm sorry," Bryce offered, face a picture of sorrow. "I dragged you into this world and now I'm going to abandon you to it. But, please, let me tell you why before they drag me away."
Nearly five years ago, Bryce had walked out of Chuck's life without an explanation. It had been one more blow than he could handle. But now, when he'd practically just got used to having him in his life again, Bryce was about to leave. Chuck wanted to delude himself, to pretend that he could walk out now without hearing Bryce out and that his friend wouldn't leave. That he could make him stay through sheer delusion, but that wasn't the way the world worked.
Chuck unfroze his legs, gracelessly dropping to the couch. "I'm not going to like this, am I?"
There was a small, wry smile on Bryce's face. A wordless reply of probably not, sorry, buddy.
"You know the first part already," Bryce began, finger pointing slightly towards him. "I was recruited in junior year. I'd taken a seminar with Fleming and he was impressed with my scores. He told me I could make a difference, could make something of myself. All the things you say to a stupid kid who doesn't know any better. But," Bryce shrugged, a grin quirking his lips. "It wasn't so bad. I mean, I'm James Bond."
Chuck didn't deny that it would appeal to a twenty year old Bryce, but if it was so great... "You kept me out of the CIA."
"Of course," Bryce replied instantly. "You hate guns, violence. You set free every spider that ever entered our frat. You could never kill anyone. It's not you."
Implicit in that statement was that it was Bryce. And if that wasn't one of the most heartbreaking things he'd heard in a while. That his friend could think that of himself, to be so sure that he was that person; that cold, terrifying superspy. He could see it in Bryce's eyes, that resignation, acceptance of who and what he was.
"Buddy," Chuck began, lost about what to do. "That's not all you are."
"No," Bryce agreed softly. "But it's a big part of it."
No, it isn't, Chuck wanted to say. He wanted to find the right words to make him understand that he was more than what he thought; that he was worth just as much as Chuck was.
Just as Chuck was leaning in, a Casey-like "Listen, moron," on his lips, the moment to do so was obliterated.
Sarah strode into the apartment on a wave of almost betrayed fury, Casey trudging behind her looking very much as if he didn't care about anything at all, ever.
"You're leaving?"
"Well, hello to you too, Sarah," Bryce muttered sarcastically, leaning back against the couch. "Please come in."
Sarah's eyes narrowed in that way that promised she was in no mood for his jokes, crossing her arms as she stared down at them. "What is going on?"
"I'd like to know that too," Casey agreed, taking a seat on an armchair.
Bryce narrowed his eyes at his fellow handlers, Chuck watching the way his fingers twitched. "This explanation is for Chuck."
"Beckman said you'd say that," Casey smirked, leaning forward. "She said to tell you that Walker and I are cleared for the Fulcrum briefing."
Beside Chuck, Bryce gave a full body shudder, cursing. "Ghuy'cha'."
Chuck's eyes widened. "Bryce!"
Bryce gave an unapologetic shrug. "I stand by it. This was not how I was intending to spend my night."
Chuck understood that, of course he did. This wasn't how he was planning on spending the night either. It bore no relation whatsoever to passing out from too much turkey and pie and sleeping until his alarm went off. But, still. Casey and Sarah were here now and they did, he supposed, deserve an explanation as much as Chuck.
"Just sit down and don't ask too many questions," Bryce sighed, apparently deciding to give in before Chuck had formulated an argument for letting them stay.
.
.
Bryce turned back to Chuck as if he was the only person in the room. "My first mission after graduation was the Omaha Project."
"The one Fleming wanted me for?"
"Yeah," Bryce agreed unhappily. "It was one of many precursor missions to determine agent suitability for a top secret operation." Bryce gestured towards Chuck's head. "The Intersect."
"Why you?" Sarah asked, just the kind of perceptive question she always asked.
"Visual memory," Chuck speculated, glancing at his friend to see if he had guessed right. "Fleming's course was all about subliminal encoding."
Bryce grinned, nodding proudly. "It was speculated that a candidate with the ability to process and retain information encoded into subliminal images might be able to become a walking, talking depository for government secrets. The possibilities for intelligence work were overwhelming; the ability to make connections in real-time in the field, it would change the game."
Casey scowled. "And it was supposed to be you."
"Don't pout, Casey, we all have our strengths," Bryce smirked. "But, the tests weren't over. They weren't certain that the human mind really could hold all the information it needed to. To say nothing about the fact that their top scientist had gone into the wind some years before. So, I was sent on another mission and another. Then I was partnered up with Sarah most of the time and I thought that was it. But, while Sarah was called back for a top secret mission, I was given one of my own."
Chuck watched as Bryce pushed off the couch, walking as far as the television before turning.
"I was ordered to drop all my contacts and go dark. Really dark. All the way dark. My orders were to download the Intersect and deliver it to my handler for Operation Sand Wall."
Sand Wall. Fulcrum's plan to steal the Intersect.
Chuck stood, too restless to stay seated. "Fulcrum wanted the Intersect."
"Yes." Bryce ran a hand through his hair, pacing the length of the room. He turned to Casey and Sarah. "I found out that the operation I was on wasn't sanctioned by the CIA. They were a splinter group, a rogue faction. And they were everywhere. In every organisation. It was an internal strike. I didn't know who to trust. So I did the only thing I could."
Chuck felt his sigh ripple through his body. "You destroyed the Intersect and sent it to me."
"Exactly." Bryce's blue eyes fixed on Chuck, shining with sadness and contrition, yet somehow managing to be as fond as ever.
Chuck understood destroying the main intersect to protect the secrets and he even understood downloading them and sending them to safety. But, he didn't understand why Chuck of all people. "Why, Bryce?"
For the first time since Graham's text, Bryce's smile actually reached his eyes.
"Because, out of everyone in my life - everyone I have ever met - you were the only person I knew I could trust."
"How does Fulcrum fit into this?" Casey demanded, rudely interrupting their moment before it could begin.
At the mere mention of the group, Bryce's body tensed. "Fulcrum want the Intersect. I don't know why, but they need it badly." He paced anew, barely looking at any of them. "The body we found, he was one of my handlers. He made contact with me just before I came out here. He tried to bring me in."
"But you shot him," Sarah guessed, Chuck never more grateful that Bryce had stopped him before he'd have had to seen Bryce's handiwork.
"I thought I killed him," Bryce admitted. He cut a wry look to the NSA major. "Looks like both of us were terrible shots that week, Casey."
Casey glowered, as usual unimpressed at Bryce's reminder of his failure.
"Why keep him alive?" Sarah asked. "Why go through all that trouble to smuggle him into the country?"
"Because I told him something important," Bryce said, gaze skittering past Chuck. "And because he was the one that always knew where to contact me."
"What did you tell him?" Chuck asked, having the horrible, stomach plunging feeling that he knew.
"The only thing I could tell him," came Bryce's quiet response. His friend didn't so much as glance at him, yet Chuck knew that all his senses were fixed on him.
Chuck uttered a quiet Klingon curse of his own, dropping back to the couch. "For God's sake, Bryce. Fulcrum think you're the Intersect?"
"Ding-ding," Bryce chimed, his grin far too bright. "Beckman and Graham assigned me here as an additional layer of protection for the both of us. To keep you safe while you adjusted to life as the Intersect, and to keep me away from Washington and out of the reach of Fulcrum."
"Then why-"
"Am I leaving?" Bryce smiled sadly, coming to sit back beside Chuck. "Because Fulcrum found me. And I'll be cold in my grave a long, long time before I ever put you in danger by staying."
Unbidden, the memory of the Fulcrum agent staring at him filled Chuck's mind.
"What if you're putting me in danger by leaving?" Chuck asked, clutching desperately at the thought.
Bryce turned slowly to Chuck, a glimmer of something shattered in his eyes. "What?"
Chuck touched his own cheek, widening his eyes pointedly. "He saw me. Looked long enough to remember me. If he comes back and you're not there."
Chuck didn't need to say more, not with the way Bryce's jaw clenched, fingers curled.
"He'll take you, use you to draw me out," Bryce muttered, unable to stop himself. "I'd kill him."
That was never in doubt. But, if the CIA sent him away, how could he have Chuck's back?
"What if Fulcrum find out about us here?" Chuck pressed, seeing the first glimmers of uncertainty in Bryce's eyes. "And you're not here. There's no other explanation for two of the government's best spies hanging around here. And if you're gone-"
"Fulcrum will focus on you," Bryce breathed, closing his eyes as if in pain. "Buddy, they're ordering me away. I can't disobey when they think it's not safe."
"Organisation structure?" Casey asked, frowning at the pair of them. If Chuck didn't know better, he might say Casey was trying to keep Bryce there too. Or, maybe Chuck was just projecting and Casey wanted to get as much intelligence out of Bryce before he had to leave. "Fulcrum. They the type to keep in constant contact with the others?"
"No," Bryce admitted, fingers drumming on his knee. "They operate in cells, each one self contained until the objective is complete."
"And now their mission is retrieving you," Sarah said, a sound like dawning understanding. "If they haven't reported back yet, there's still time-"
"There's not," Bryce murmured, just loud enough to shatter the fledgling spark of hope in Chuck's chest. He sighed, dragging his hand over his face. "Graham's sending a team to pick me up tomorrow. I'll be at the Buy More and then..." Bryce waved a hand, demonstrating his inevitable vanishing without a trace.
"Tomorrow?" Chuck heard his heartbeat loud in his ears, the sound of blood rushing as familiar as the surge of sheer panic in his veins. It couldn't be tomorrow. Tomorrow was hours away. Too soon. Too close.
"It's not goodbye forever, buddy," Bryce offered softly. "Just for a little while."
Chuck knew that was meant to be comforting. And it was, distantly. But, all Chuck could think of was the last time Bryce had walked out of his life and how long it had been between that day and their reunion.
"We've still got so much Zork to code," Chuck stated, eyes wild. He saw Bryce narrow his eyes at Casey and Sarah, but Chuck didn't really care. "And- and Christmas is coming up and I know Ellie already planned on making you help cook dinner and you know how smug Morgan is going to be if you just quit the Buy More and vanish again and-"
"Chuck," Bryce interrupted, his smile soft and small. "You're babbling again."
Yeah. Chuck knew. But babbling had always been a part of his best plans. "If I don't babble, you'll go."
And there it was. That heartbreaking little smile; the one he'd last seen Bryce wear as he was walking out of their frat. "I'm going all the same."
Somehow, that heartbreaking little smile transformed into Chuck's favourite crooked grin.
"But," Bryce said, perhaps with a little too much fake cheer. "I'm still here tonight. And, though I'm sure Ellie will be able to see right through us, I've missed a Bartowski Thanksgiving."
Chuck knew that light in Bryce's eyes. Knew what that smile meant. "You want to pretend tonight that you're not leaving tomorrow?"
Bryce offered another smile and nodded, almost hopeful.
It would kill him to pretend that everything was fine and great, but if it made Bryce happy, Chuck could do it. He'd hate every minute, but he could do it.
"Come on then, buddy," Chuck smiled, too cheerful himself. "Let's go see if Awesome and Morgan left us any pie."
"If all else fails, I left ice cream in the freezer," Bryce grinned, pushing himself to his feet. "But, Chuck, we don't have to do this."
Chuck only shook his head, accepting Bryce's help off the couch. "We're doing this," he insisted, clapping his friend on the back. "It's still Thanksgiving."
For a few more hours at least, he still had his family exactly where they were supposed to be. He'd face everything else tomorrow.
