Critical Hellfire
By Steampunk . Chuckster
Summary: Chuck and Morgan are co-hosts of a locally popular streaming channel in which they discuss all things metal while playing video games. Their lives are uprooted when their demo guy hands them THE demo of the ages—a band called Critical Hellfire, fronted by singer and bassist Sarah Walker. AU Charah.
A/N: Little bit of a time jump here. Think of this as a coda. Thanks for going along on this ride with me. I'm a little sad it ends here but I'm also ready to go back to my other fics. This was insane. I'm insane. But I appreciate y'all supporting my insanity so thoroughly. (most of you, ha!) Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own CHUCK or any of its characters. I don't own any of the songs mentioned in this chapter, this fic, or anywhere else for that matter. I am making absolutely zero dollars writing and posting this.
Three Years Later
"Lights…" He was nearly blinded. "Oh, shit. Maybe just light. Singular. That's too much." The light dimmed a bit and he breathed a sigh of relief. He could actually see now. "Perfect. Camera?" A hand came up from behind the camera with an okay sign. "Action."
The hand held up three fingers, then two, then one, and finally pointed at him.
"Hello, hello from Cleveland, Ohi-OH!" He chuckled, then made a self-deprecating face at himself and shook his head. "I'm Chuck Bartowski, your Games N Rock Sessions host for the night." He looked around him at the rest of the backstage lounge, which had gone quiet for the streaming of the show, even as a few folks were off in the wings watching. "I know what you're all saying right now. But Chuck! There are two Games N Rock Sessions hosts! Where is your cohost with the supremest beard of all beards?" He clapped his hands together and leaned in. "Great question. I have an answer. In fact, I'm a big fan of the 'show don't tell' principle, so let's go over to Morgan Grimes, our on-scene reporter."
Chuck made a swooping circle with his hands and then pointed off to the side.
On the monitor next to the camera, Morgan appeared in the semi-dark wings off the side of the stage. He had a microphone in hand as he waved, then he pressed a finger to his ear in a mimicry of an on-scene reporter from a news station, talking in something of a yell into the microphone.
"HI, CHUCK! HI, VIEWERS! MORGAN HERE! RIGHT IN THE THICK OF IT!"
Music was blaring loudly, and Chuck saw onto the stage behind him. There were the backs of performers he knew very well, and a drummer blasting away on his set as he head-banged. He'd wanted to catch more of the show himself, but part of the contract was covering the tour, not just enjoying it the way they wanted to.
So he'd dashed down to the backstage lounge to set up about twenty minutes ago, leaving Morgan at the scene.
The best part of this was that they had the creative freedom to play this however they wanted to, and so they did it in the best way they knew how to. Full-throated goofballity.
"How's it sounding over there, Morgan?"
"Uh! I don't really know what you said! Honestly! But I know you said something! This band kicks ass! I'm fucking living right now!" Morgan yelled. "As are these people!" He pointed for their camera-woman to turn the camera to show the stage crew who were all head-banging, pumping their fists, wearing their headphones, absolute sheer joy on their faces. A few of them noticed the camera on them and waved, pointing at their black T-shirts and giving thumbs up.
"Hi, guys!" Chuck said with a wave, even though they couldn't hear or see him. The camera went back to his cohost. "So Morgan, tell us a little about the vibe."
"Again! I know you're saying something but I have no fuggin' idea what because it's very loud! Man, this is nuts! The crowd is wild! Just listen to 'em!" He held his microphone out towards the stage, wrapping it around the curtain. This ended up being completely unhelpful because it only picked up the band covering "Princess of the Night" by Saxon, the last song of the night.
The actual last song, as the crowd had scream-chanted "HELLFIRE! HELLFIRE! HELLFIRE!" after the last song of their set until the band came back out for this encore. Chuck heard it from the lounge, grinning with the rest of the crew who'd helped him set up for the stream.
Morgan brought the mic back. He was about to speak, but he stopped, turning back. "Oh wait wait wait!" He held the mic out on the stage again and they could hear the crowd yelling, "SKY! … SKY! … SKY!" along with Sarah, and then Dylan took over with his screaming guitar solo.
Chuck was grinning like an idiot now. This crowd hadn't come to see Critical Hellfire alone, no. Critical Hellfire was playing in front of a crowd of over twelve-thousand, opening for Lita Ford, the Lita Ford, who was opening for Heart, THE fucking Heart.
Almost an hour earlier, most of the people in this crowd, if not all of them, had no idea what Critical Hellfire was. They were here for Lita, for Heart, for one, or the other, or both. And now, they were screaming for encores for an opening band, singing with these rockers they hadn't even heard of before.
This tour had been a triumph. It was a string of triumphs.
And Chuck and Morgan had been so God damn lucky that they'd been given the opportunity to go along for the ride.
"Would ya listen to that…?" he breathed, letting out a bubbly, breathless giggle.
The song was winding down now, they were doing their mess of guitar riffs and solos, Mac making a meal of his drum set, the lights were going haywire on the stage, and Morgan was just there, banging his head over and over, screaming, "WOOOOOOOOO!"
Chuck just watched, his face lit up with joy. He distantly felt the couch cushion move next to him as if someone sat down so he turned to glance at whoever it was. "Hi," he chirped.
"Hello," she drawled back.
He turned to the monitor again and froze, his eyes going wide as he realized…
Chuck whipped back around. "H'oh! Oh my God! Lita! It's Lita Ford! Hhhhh'atcha…Hi. Oh, hi."
She laughed, sticking her hand out. "Sorry to interrupt the show, buddy…"
He took the hand she offered, shaking it, beaming. "Oh my God, no. Please. You are not an interruption. You're, like…an immediate…blessing. A blessing to my existence. Right now. Oh my God."
He finally let go of her hand and dried his palms on his jeans. "You're my idol. I mean, one of them. But up there. At the top."
"Stopppp iiiiit," she drawled. "I heard there was a show of some kind being recorded in here and I had to check it out. You guys talk metal, huh?"
"Mhm. Yep. It's a live stream on Twitch."
"Live? That's bonkers. This technology stuff is crazy. So people are watching this right now…?"
"Yes." He leaned forward to glance at the stream. "We have almost fifty thousand watching right now. And they're freaking out because you're sitting next to me. I'm freaking out because you're sitting next to me. Holy shit."
"Well damn. Hi, almost fifty-thousand. This is my friend…uh, what was your name, kid?"
"Chuck. Chuck Bartowski. This is Games N Rock Sessions." He could hear the roar of the crowd cheering out there now that Critical Hellfire had finished up. They'd be resetting the stage for Lita's band now. "We've been on tour with Critical Hellfire for three months, doing shows from inside vans, hotel rooms, backstage lounges…you name it, we've streamed our show from it. Oh, there was the park bench in Seattle. That was cool."
"That's pretty cool. The metal scene's been changing, growing. I'm just lucky I still get to be a part of it," she said, nudging him with her elbow.
"Oh. Oh, please. Lita. Ms. Ford. Ms. Lita Ford. Lucky? You're an icon. Anybody's lucky to share any sort of stage—or-or couch—with you."
"You're a sweetheart. I like these curls, too," she teased, reaching up to play with one of his curls. He went bright red.
"Uhhhhh…I'm-I'm not on the market. As it were."
She cracked up, throwing an arm around him and hugging him tight to her side, kissing his cheek. "I like him," she said to her bandmates who'd congregated behind the camera. "You're fuckin' adorable, kid. I mean that."
Suddenly the door out to the hallway that led to the stage burst open and Morgan came in, Critical Hellfire piling in after him. They all looked absolutely shell-shocked. And without even looking at the couch completely, Morgan crashed into the picture and shook Chuck. "I just met Ann and Nancy Wilson! I JUST MET ANN AND NANCY WILSON! Well, they did. The band did. But I was STANDING THERE! And—"
He froze then, because Chuck not-so-subtly gestured next to him, at the woman whose arm was still over his shoulders.
"FUCK!" Morgan belted, making Lita cackle, taking her arm away from Chuck so that she could clap in glee. "Lita Ford! You are—I have your poster still up in my bedroom! It's framed! Mi madre has her Virgin Mary statue she prays to and I pray to my poster of you!"
She was still laughing as she grabbed his hand and tugged him down to the couch on her other side.
She pulled both of them in against her, hugging them, and then she burst up from the couch. "I have to get on stage soon, but I love you both. We'll talk again, yeah? Invite me onto your live thing sometime, and we'll chat metal."
They could only gape at her as she gathered her band. Chuck was distantly aware of her talking in low tones to Sarah, leaning in to kiss the younger woman on the cheek, squeeze her shoulder, and move to the rest of the band. He thought he heard her praising them, maybe, but his ears were ringing so he really didn't know what in the hell was going on.
As they cleared out, Sarah spun to face him, out of breath, practically panting, soaked with sweat from her performance. Looking like a metal goddess, honestly.
A bright smile was on her face as she shut her eyes and squealed, "LITA FORD!" with both fists up above her head.
Cracking up, he broke out of his haze, turned to the camera and blurted, "Sorry! We're here. We're on planet Earth, but barely. That was, as you can probably imagine, a little bit…overwhelming. Uh, here. Hold on." He rushed off camera as Morgan sprang up to get right in the camera's lens to tell their viewers in loud words that he met Ann and Nancy Wilson.
It was perfect, as it gave him time to go into the cooler, grab four waters, and rush to Critical Hellfire behind the camera. He gave Mac a water, then Dylan, then Zondra, and finally, Sarah.
"Thanks, baby," she drawled, leaning in to peck his lips. "How much of it did you catch?"
"Everything but the last twenty minutes or so. I heard them screaming for an encore from in here, though, you fuckin' ledge."
She beamed. "That was kind of incredible."
"Yeah, you wailed. Come. Come on. You gotta get in on this episode. They haven't gotten to see you guys for weeks." He grabbed her clammy hand as she guzzled water, tugging her back in front of the camera, hurriedly waving the rest of the band over to sit on the couch, then he snagged Morgan by the back of his flannel and pulled him out of the camera lens. "C'mere. We have guests."
"Shit, yeah. I just…I just saw Ann and Nancy Wilson and I can't feel any of my extremities," Morgan breathed. "You guys were icons out there," he said to the band as he sat in a fold-out chair nearby.
"Thanks, bestie," Mac said, patting Morgan's shoulder. He probably didn't do much more than that because Anna was standing there with the handheld camera, eyeing him critically, as if waiting for him to do his usual extra touchy-feely thing he did with her boyfriend. It was all very harmless, an attempt to make Morgan blush even though their friendship was platonic. But Anna was…well, she was Anna.
Chuck unfolded his own chair and set it down next to where Sarah sat at the end of the couch. She immediately picked up her feet and draped her legs over his lap. His hands automatically landed on her stocking-covered shins, massaging them. She smiled at him, taking another swig from her water.
"So that's it, huh?" he asked, smiling back at her. "Last show of the tour. You've opened for a lot of bands, finishing it off with two legends in Lita Ford and Heart. How're you guys feelin'?"
"Like I've been electrocuted," Dylan responded. "But in a good way." They all chuckled.
"I haven't come down from the high and I probably won't," Zondra said.
"She doesn't mean that literally," Sarah cut in. "Stay off drugs, kids."
"Except for marijuana," Dylan corrected. "That one is fun." Zondra elbowed him as he wiggled his eyebrows. "Ow! What? It is."
"Uh, nobody is gonna say it?!" Mac leaned forward from the other end of the couch. "Fine, I will. We walked past Ann and Nancy Wilson on their way to their dressing rooms. They told us that they watched. our. set. They said we were incredible. That word. From Ann Wilson's perfect lips. We're incredible. I'm not sure I'm not dead. Like, the bigoted sect of Christianity is talkin' out their asses about us gays going to hell, because I am positive that I'm legit in Heaven."
Everyone cracked up.
Dylan stopped and made a thoughtful face. "Wait. Does that mean we're all gay?"
They all looked at each other. And then they cheered, pumping their fists, laughing.
Morgan looked at the screen. "Aw man, some of you are bummed we aren't making the band play video games. Y'all are still running on the fumes of Sarah's Guitar Hero escapades, huh?"
Sarah rolled her eyes and groaned. "That was hell. And three years ago. I'm not doing that again. Ever."
"Oh, Sarah sucking at Guitar Hero? Not surprised," Dylan said. She reached around Zondra and smacked the back of his head, laughing. "Ow! What?! You aren't the video game type, Blondie. Sorry."
"Wait, wait. Now let's be fair here," Chuck cut in, earning a grateful look from his girlfriend. "Sarah also wasn't a metal type either back when she was playing violin, but look at her now—ah!" He cackled as she kicked at him with the heel of her boot. Thankfully not hard, because he knew that would leave a hell of a mark even through his jeans if she actually meant it.
"Can't believe you just said that live on your show, you jerk!"
He could imagine the viewers were freaking out over the brand new information that Sarah Walker, singer and bassist of Critical Hellfire, had once played violin.
"Let's hear more about that!" Morgan exclaimed, leaning forward to gape at Sarah in excitement.
"Let's not," she shot back, batting her eyelashes at him.
"Like, just picture it. Sarah Walker in pigtails in the orchestra in high school, first violin, taking the lead on Brahms' Hungarian Dance No. 5…" He began to hum the song in his best attempt at a violin string, playing an invisible violin.
"Oh, I'm definitely gonna get you in your sleep later," she chuckled threateningly, amusement in her eyes.
"Meh. You've said that to me so many times in the last three years and I'm stiiiiiill heeeeere, babyyyyyy." He pumped both fists over his head with a cheeky grin.
"How did you pull that random composer and title out of your hat like that?" Zondra asked. "What do you know about violin shit?"
Sarah eyed him dubiously. "Yeah, good question."
"Please. I am a fan of music in general. I know stuff about classical, too." He stuck his hands out palms up in a shrug.
"Quick, name a polka!" Dylan exclaimed, pointing at him.
"Chit-Chat Polka!" he snapped, pointing back at the guitarist. "Was that Strauss the dad, or Strauss the junior? I don't remember. They composed the same kind of shit."
Dylan blinked, his shoulders slumping. "I don't know if that's right because I know nada about classical."
"It's right," Sarah said, appraising Chuck a certain way. "And it's Strauss the second. The junior."
"That makes sense," he said with a nod. "He was the one who did all the polkas, huh…"
She nodded, grinning at him.
"Ohhhh, look at the lovebirds being classical dorks together over there," Mac teased.
"Hey, be careful joking around like that. I might just steal your singer slash bassist to come and be in my dorkchestra," Chuck joked, making everyone crack up.
}o{
She watched the lights of downtown Cleveland dance across his handsome face as he looked out of the limo window.
She'd known him for three years now, and she liked to think she knew him better than most people, if not all people—maybe besides Morgan, but she was okay with that. And he definitely knew her better than most of the people in her life put together.
Still, she found she was learning new things about him all the time, including that he was a fan of classical music…? They'd been practically attached at the hip for three years, as much as was possible at least with Critical Hellfire's insane schedule once the touring and album recording really kicked off. She'd spent weeks, even a month here and there, away from him over the last three years. But they'd managed it, fought through the hard parts together, came out even better on the other side.
And she had no idea he had classical knowledge stored up in that brilliant brain of his. It made sense, but she hadn't known.
She loved that there were some things that were still a mystery, things they were still learning about each other.
The band cracked up then, and she turned to watch Dylan pour champagne as carefully as possible into everyone's glass, singing, "For weeeee're jolly good peeeeeople, for weeee're jolly good peeeeeople…"
Sarah snuck Chuck's champagne flute out of his fingers, reaching forward with both his and hers so that Dylan could refill them. She winked at her guitarist and sat back against the corner of the seat where she and Chuck had cuddled up together.
"Thanks," he mumbled with a soft smile, taking his flute back.
"Welcome." She bumped him with her shoulder cutely.
Even as Morgan, Anna, Mac, Zondra, and Dylan were getting rowdy at the other end of the limo, Sarah leaned against Chuck's warm side and propped her chin on his shoulder.
"You're all quiet and contemplative," she said quietly so only he could hear.
He turned away from the window and grinned. "Nooo, no. I'm not. Quiet, sure, but not really contemplative. I've seen so many beautiful places over the last couple of months, Sarah. Guess I'm just taking in this one, too."
"We've got a pretty awesome country out there, huh?"
"Yeah. So many different people, so many different communities, cultures. Kinda rad." He sipped his champagne, then slung his arm over her shoulders, tugging her in even closer. "I'm so glad I got to see all of this with you."
Her heart hammered in her chest. "I wouldn't have wanted to do any of this tour without you. I'm forever grateful to Beckman that she sent my GnR boys along with us to document the tour."
"You bummed the tour's over? That we're climbing onto a plane in the morning and heading back to LA?"
She pursed her lips, thinking about it, and then she looked at the others, snorting at the way Zondra was pouring champagne into Anna's mouth from above. She refused to contribute to this limo's cleaning fees because of these dummies.
"I'm kind of okay with it. Not that it hasn't been the most amazing whirlwind of my life," she breathed in awe, shaking her head. She slid her hand over Chuck's thigh, squeezing affectionately. "But I'm so ready to go home and rest for a few months. I miss my bed. I miss your bed," she admitted, making him chuckle. "I miss Ellie and Devon. Shit, I miss the Buy More guys, even Graham's apocalyptic ass." He laughed a little harder, squeezing her. "What I wouldn't give to dip one of those greasy fries in that chocolate shake he makes so well." She sighed.
"Well, we're almost there," he said sweetly.
"Mhm." She nuzzled her face into his shoulder. "I can't believe Lita Ford hit on you." He cracked up and she lifted her head. "What? It's kind of something I get to boast about now."
"Oh, you do? What about me? Can I boast?"
"Sure, but mostly me."
"And how's that work out?" he flirted, sipping his champagne.
"Lita Ford hit on my boyfriend and instead of letting his longtime metal crush drag him off into the sunset, he picked me." Chuck laughed, shaking his head at her. "What? I get to brag now. My boyfriend picked me over Lita Ford. Kiss my ass deadly."
He rocked forward with a guffaw. "I'm going to remember that line for the rest of my life," he said through the laughter. "Kiss my ass deadly. Sarah Walker, you gem."
She tilted her head teasingly. "You know, she did give Casey a certain sweeping look on her way out too, though. Like she wanted to eat him up."
"Oh, wow. Great. Now my confidence is back in the toilet."
Her flirtatious giggle was interrupted as his lips covered hers. She imagined he meant for it to be a simple kiss, a show of affection. But with the adrenaline of the night, the champagne and other alcoholic substances in their blood, and the heady knowledge of how well the tour had went, surging through both of them, the kiss gained heat almost immediately. He didn't help at all by slipping his hand around her thigh and tugging it up to sling it across his lap.
"Oh, seriously?! Right now?! With all of us in the same limo?! Have you no shame?!" Mac exclaimed, and she broke the kiss, giggling manically, climbing back off of Chuck.
She knew they were both blushing as she held up an apologetic hand. "Sorry, I blame the champagne."
"I blame how hot Sarah is," Chuck chimed in, making her cackle.
It had taken some work, but she'd gotten Chuck Bartowski to move past his squeamishness surrounding PDA after a year or two of dating.
But they'd moved well past the concept of dating at this point. She wasn't sitting next to the man she was dating. She was more than just in love with the nerd. And vice versa. There was a deep partnership here. And it had taken work, a lot of hard work, for her to understand that letting someone in this much wasn't a mistake, it wouldn't endanger her or cause her harm. It took work to trust him, and to trust herself to be able to do this with him.
"Can you wait 'til you get back to the hotel? Jesus."
Chuck held up his free hand in surrender. "You are correct. That's my bad."
Sarah decided she'd let him take the blame, but she slid her hand over his thigh anyway, squeezing.
A night of partying over now, their beds and a late morning flight back to LA awaiting them, once they did actually pull up to their hotel, they all said their goodnights and split off, Chuck and Sarah heading for the same room.
His arms wound around her torso from behind as she unlocked the door, his lips on her jaw, drifting down her neck.
"I think Mac meant inside of the hotel room when he was whining about our PDA…" she flirted, getting the door unlocked and opening it, pushing it wider for them to slip through together.
"Close enough," he flirted back.
The door thumped shut behind them and she heard him flick the lock.
They made quick work of their clothes on the way to the bed, and much slower work of one another once they climbed into the bed.
When they'd finally worn themselves out, he pressed his chest to her back and draped an arm and leg over her form. A secure, sweetly protective gesture. She figured he was asleep, his breathing even and quiet… He wasn't trying to talk or ask questions, or ramble like he usually did.
She definitely didn't blame him for sleeping. This had been a long fucking day. A long three months, for sure.
Three years ago, she'd used the opportunity of being in front of Diane Beckman to slip Games N Rock Sessions onto the music mogul's radar, to try to get them something that would help them not drop off of the face of the earth, the way Cole Barker so clearly had wanted them to when he stole their streaming channel property.
And it had been harder to sell to the woman, because they weren't musicians, they weren't marketable in that way. What they were, however, was extremely good at picking out excellent talent and figuring out what to do with that talent. If they hadn't been good at all of that, Critical Hellfire would still be taking shit gigs. They never would've gotten in front of Diane Beckman. They wouldn't be touring and opening for acts like Lita Ford or Heart. She wouldn't have met Debbie Harry last month in New York City, or Joan Jett, who she met the next night. Or Chrissie Hynde in Miami the month before that.
When Diane realized she found her new-faces-of-metal cash cow because of the efforts of the GnR boys, she contacted those producers who watched their show, Jake Horne and Dan Proctor, and met with them. They put their heads together and a few weeks later, Chuck and Morgan were sitting in that same office, signing a contract with one of Mr. Horne's lawyers looking out for them.
They'd stayed on Twitch because they were comfortable with it. They'd worked out the legal mess of the name and got to keep Games N Rock Sessions, Cole Barker not putting up as much of a fight as they'd all expected.
Only now, there was an NSA stamp of approval under their intro logo. They were a part of North Star Audio's newest venture into content creation that wasn't just about producing music. They'd be the flagship, the guinea pig.
That guinea pig had paid off.
Chuck and Morgan had ended up being a huge get for NSA. And the advertisements weren't for misogynistic books about dating, or harmful medications being pushed on unsuspecting old folks. The sponsors were genuine and they were connected to the industry, to music, and to gaming. Playstation had taken notice of the guys and sent them care packages before contacting NSA to ask to be a sponsor.
Chuck liked to say that Sarah had repaid him in full, getting him and Morgan that meeting with Beckman. But she thought she'd only done the right thing. She'd taken a page out of their book. She'd acted on what was in her heart, to help someone else, people she loved, even though it had terrified her to open her mouth in that moment.
God, it had so paid off.
Traveling around Southern California taking gig after gig after gig, working and playing themselves to exhaustion, had put a strain on all of their relationships, including her relationship with Chuck. But they had clung to one another through it all. They'd refused to let anything harm what they'd grown together. He'd come to as many of Critical Hellfire's gigs as he could, and she'd helped him, Morgan, and Anna with GnR when she could. A way to stay connected even as their respective jobs were pulling them both in every direction, sometimes opposite directions.
And then she'd buried herself in the studio with the band while making their album, and those three people and the recording producers were the only human beings she ever saw practically until that thing was finished and out on shelves and streaming. She'd sometimes turn her car in the direction of Chuck's house instead of her loft and she'd stumble up to his window, give it a tap, and climb into his arms. She had a habit of not leaving said arms again until she had to go back to the studio to continue working.
They got through the hard shit, though. They'd both had to compromise, they'd had to have many long conversations, they'd had to work on their communication for sure. They'd had to find ways to remind themselves and one another that there was a person—an important person—connected to their existences, and that connection was crucial to their survival in what was genuinely a wild industry in a wild world. They hadn't allowed the connection to be severed, not by anything.
Including Critical Hellfire's first album release and the immediate tour Casey had booked for them. She'd dreaded going away for months and leaving Chuck behind. She'd stressed so badly over it. Sitting down in front of him, telling him she would have to go, that he wouldn't see her for months. It had hurt her, thinking about being without him for that long.
And then Diane had approached them with a novel concept. She would send Games N Rock Sessions on the tour as well.
Chuck, Morgan, and their "techy" Anna had been to every city with the band, doing their show from hotel rooms, hotel lobbies to the concern of hotel staff sometimes, in the back of a van, on the plane, at parks, in backstage lounges, in dressing rooms. Yesterday, they even got the Rock & Roll Museum to let them go in with Anna operating their handheld camera. They'd had twenty-thousand live viewers as they wandered around acting like excited kids.
The tour had been a dream. An exhausting dream. So much fun. So enriching. Everything she never would've even dared to dream might be possible.
And Sarah Walker was sure she'd never been this happy in her life.
She thought she'd try to drift off to sleep so that she didn't feel as rough on the flight as she knew her bandmates would be after all the drinking they'd done at the clubs tonight, and again in the limousine.
But then she felt Chuck's fingers move against her abdomen, a light stroking of his fingertips against her skin that made her shiver.
"Thought you were asleep," she said quietly.
"I'm not. I can't really sleep at the moment. My brain is still abuzz."
"Mine, too," she sighed, draping her hand over his and pulling his arm tighter around her, scooting back more against him for warmth.
He turned his face into her cheek, pressing a kiss there, then moving his lips down to her neck, nuzzling her with his nose and making her giggle softly. "There is so much happening."
She turned her face to glance at him. "We're kind of at the end of the happening, though, technically. This was our last stop on the tour. Now it's back home to LA and the beach and actual good tacos."
He laughed. "You're not wrong about the tacos. And ooooh can we go to the beach literally, like, the day after tomorrow? Or, technically, since it's three in the morning, that'd be tomorrow."
"Yes. Absolutely. We'll have a whole beach party."
"Let's invite Mr. Casey. I bet he's really good at that keepsie-upsie game with the paddles and the ball." She laughed, shaking her head. "Maybe he's more of a frisbee guy, though." She felt him grin against her jaw, hugging her tighter. "And you do realize this isn't even close to the end of anything, yeah? Sure, the tour is over and you're headed home in a couple of hours, but this is kind of like the beginning of it all. First album, first tour. More shows, interviews, back to the drawing board to keep writing so that you can make a second album. More tours."
She smiled. "I guess that's the life I've chosen, huh?"
"Yep. You're doing exactly what you wanted, baby. That's no small thing."
"Can I have a few moments to just be home, though? That's all I ask. Going all over this country made me realize how deeply I have Los Angeles in my blood. It's my home. My refresh button." He smiled again. "I love it."
"Me, too. No place like home, huh?"
"Helps that you're there. And Ellie, Devon, all my favorite places to hang out."
"And the nectar of the gods…" He paused dramatically.
"In-N-Out," they said at the same time, making each other laugh.
"No matter where this venture takes us, Sarah," he said in the comfortable quiet that settled over them, "I'm gonna be here. With you." He shifted their hands so that he held hers in his tight fist, and he brought it up against her chest.
She took a deep breath, turning over in his arms, meeting his sincere brown eyes with sincerity of her own. "I'm gonna be with you, too. Nothing's changing that. Ever."
Chuck's jaw clenched a little and his Adam's apple bobbed. He leaned in to kiss her passionately, his arms winding around her, pulling her in tight. She slung her left leg around him and used her thigh to tug his bottom half against hers, humming in a way she hoped left nothing to his imagination.
He broke the kiss, panting. "If we do this again instead of getting sleep, we're gonna be miserable on the plane."
She grinned. "Neither of us drank nearly as much as the rest of our idiot friends. They're going to be extra miserable on the plane tomorrow, so we have a little catching up to do…"
"That's an excellent point. I love how your mind works." And he dove in, pinning her to the mattress as she threw her head back with a cackle.
}o{
He screamed, a horrified tingle going through his entire body, the moment he felt the hands clamp down on his shoulders.
Sarah was in stitches as he moved the headphones off of his ears and turned to give her a glare. "Oh my God! What is wrong with you?!"
She held up her hands in surrender, collapsing onto the couch next to him as she laughed. "Sorry! You left the door down to the basement unlocked from the outside, just so you know. I didn't even have to use my key, so anybody could've come down here. Including Freddy Krueger." She pursed her lips cutely. "He wouldn't have been as nice as me about it, either."
"Oh. Shit, my bad. I really should lock that, huh?"
"Especially if you're gonna be on your own planet with these noise cancelling headphones of yours? Yeah," she giggled. And then she sat up again and kissed his cheek with a sweet hum. "Sorry I scared the shit out of you. I actually thought you'd seen me. I approached from the side."
"I have tunnel vision when I'm playing God of War. I only see the screen."
She sighed, rolling her eyes and shaking her head. "Geek."
"Uh, I think you mean Greek." He snickered.
"What? You—"
There was a loud thumping sound from the other staircase then as Ellie clattered down. "What was that scream?!" she asked. "Oh! Sarah's here. Hi! Are you okay, Sarah? I heard you scream."
Sarah laughed uproariously and Chuck gave her a flat look, turning the flat look to her sister.
"That, uh, that was me. Yeah. I screamed. Sarah, here…decided to sneak down into the basement from the outside and—"
"Were you gaming with the noise canceling headphones on and that door unlocked again?" Ellie rolled her head back and groaned. "You're going to get us all murdered."
"So this is something you do often, huh?" he heard Sarah mumble.
"Sorry. I'm sorry." He held up his hands. "I apologize. I'm the worst. I'm going to let us all get murdered because I'm thoughtless and stupid. There. Happy?"
He didn't know why he was so snappy about it, but getting harangued by both of them at once about something having to do with their safety hit him in exactly the wrong way.
"Oooooo, is somebody getting killed by too many foes on his quest to become a god?" Ellie teased.
He gave her a side-eye. "That isn't even what the game is about."
"Sooorrryyyyy," she drawled, and he caught her exchanging a look with Sarah. He realized he was being a turd, and he chuckled, shaking his head at her. He and Ellie smiled at one another then and he felt the tension dissipate.
He was entitled to have moods just like everybody else, he decided. But then he needed to climb his way out of it, too. These were the two most important people in his life. His momentary mood wasn't their fault.
"We're ordering burgers to be delivered. Either of you want one?"
"I'm okay," Chuck said.
"No, thank you," Sarah replied.
"If you're sure. I'm going back upstairs. And you, Mister, you make sure that outer door is locked. I don't want Freddy Krueger getting in here."
She walked up the stairs again as Sarah laughed with a, "That's what I said!"
"Great minds!"
The door thumped shut after that and they were left alone again.
"I'm gonna go lock the—"
He made to get up but she grabbed him, pulling him back onto the couch. "I locked it behind me when I was coming down. You okay?" she asked, seriously. "I was just teasing you. You know that, right? And I really didn't mean to freak you out; I thought you saw me—"
"No, no. I know. It's okay. I'm good. I had a flare up of a bad mood. You two ganging up on me caught me in a moment when my mood was vulnerable. But I grew out of it now. I've blossomed," he explained, chuckling as she beamed at him.
"How do you do that so easily?" she asked, shaking her head in awe at him and reaching up to play with his curls.
He didn't know what she meant.
"What?"
"You give yourself room to feel stuff, and when it isn't productive, you call yourself out a little, reel it in, and you…blossom," she said, giving him a teasing look.
"Ellie taught me," he said. "When we were kids and all that mess was happening with our mom having left and our dad kind of ignoring us." Sarah frowned a little, leaning in closer, her hand settling warmly on the back of his head and rubbing. "She checked a book out from the library to help us because neither of us were really doing well, uh…emotionally. Some kid said something to me during recess, it hit me the wrong way and then, uh, I hit him the wrong way. Oops." She winced. "Well, the book said you had to deal with emotions, and it was the hardest thing humans had to do, and a lot of people were content to just let themselves stew in bad feelings. And sometimes, you have to let yourself have it. But then you have to climb out of it. For yourself, if for no other reason. So we kept each other honest, and I guess it stuck for both of us."
"You never hit anybody again?"
"I actually didn't," he chuckled. "Not even your ex when he tried to get me to fight 'im after you and I went on our first date," he said, winking.
The look on her face had the type of heat that could melt anything. "Oh, trust me, I remember. I promptly threw you onto my bed, I was so turned on by your maturity."
"That's the part I remember the most, yeeeaaahhh," he drawled, giving her a toothy grin, his nose wrinkled.
Sarah giggled. And then she reached over to poke the controller. "Hey, uh…I'm not interrupting an important level or anything, am I?" He watched as something came over her face, something he couldn't read, but her blue eyes were a little dimmer, as if she was unsure or nervous…
He tried to tease her. "I love you so much for asking me that, but I'm good. It isn't important." He turned it off. "See? There. You are important, though…" He made a face then. "You aren't breaking up with me, are you?"
She cracked up. "Doesn't matter how many times you pull that crap, it gets me every time."
"I know. It's why I keep doing it," he said with a grin.
"Yeah, well… You aren't getting rid of me that easy." She leaned in, slinging her arms around his neck, letting her weight press into him. "You're going to laugh at me when I say it…" she mumbled with a wince.
"No, I'm not. What is it?"
She was gathering herself up for something, to tell him something, or to ask him something. And part of him feared she'd already been tagged for another tour, maybe in Europe this time, and without Games N Rock Sessions along for the ride.
And while this relationship was stronger than anything else in his existence, while he trusted her and she trusted him, while he knew this was an unbreakable bond… he was only human, and the thought of Sarah around British rocker guys, French rocker guys worst of all, Swedes with broad shoulders and super blue eyes and excellent healthcare…and him all the way back here in LA thousands of miles away…?
He shivered. And he put some steel in his spine, ready for whatever was coming.
He'd had something of his own in a pocket for a few days now…Well, not a few days. Longer than a few days. Something he'd been thinking a lot about for a while. But he'd have to keep it to himself for now.
}o{
Sighing, she rolled her head back and blinked at the ceiling. And because he was Chuck, he took advantage of the expanse of her neck she'd just revealed to him and he leaned in with an adorable "Nommmm" to close his mouth around her neck, making her cackle manically and push at him.
He chuckled, pulling back.
Giving him a faux glare, she sighed again, playing with the drawstring on his zip-up hoodie.
Three years of being with this man, everything they'd been through together, everything they'd survived together, and she still got a little tentative about asking him things like this. She didn't know why.
She took another deep breath and dove in.
"Chuck, I wanna go somewhere. Just us. Like…a vacation. We've been in this incredible relationship for three years and I feel like we haven't gotten to just disappear somewhere together, phones off, and just enjoy. We've gone plenty of places together, sure, but it was for the band and/or your stream and it doesn't count. But taking a couple of days and leaving the map behind, sitting on an empty beach somewhere? Or in a mountain cabin with no one else around? Or…I dunno." She shook her head. "We've been back from the tour for a week and I don't feel…rested. Not yet, anyway."
Her bones still had a certain kind of tiredness in them, her eyelids always heavy, no amount of sleep or facial creams or Satie playing in her ears as she meditated on the floor of her bedroom would make it go away. The only thing she hadn't tried yet was escaping LA for a while. She needed to get out of here.
Chuck was smiling widely, his hands tucking under her blazer she was wearing. He pulled her in closer, cradling her against his chest. "You asking me to take a vacation with you?"
She bit her lip and winced.
"Yeah. I am. I feel like I've been stuck in a three-year whirlwind. Both of us have been. After we both got our big breaks, it was like…there was no time for this…this being a vacation together. A trip, just the two of us. No band stuff, no streaming stuff, no gigs, no cameras or instruments. I want to take this opportunity when we have a little break here to do that now."
He nodded, seeming eager. She didn't know why any part of her thought she'd get a different response than that. "Yes. Immediately. I'll go upstairs and pack and we can leave tonight." She giggled, shaking her head at him. He was nuts if he thought she wasn't going to have a plan first. "Okay, okay. We'll sit on it for a night and leave tomorrow." She laughed. "Well, where do you wanna go?"
"I don't even know yet. I just know I wanna go. With you. A whole fucking week, if you can swing it."
Chuck pursed his lips. "I'll have to ask the boss if it's a whole week."
"Morgan?"
He laughed. "He is not my boss," he informed her as she trapped her tongue between her teeth and grinned toothily. "I meant Diane."
"Yeah, well, I think she'll say you've fucking earned it. In those exact words. You've further cemented her company as a trailblazer. NSA is finding a lot of success outside of the box in ways other music production companies are now basically scampering to try to follow suit." She kissed his nose. She was proud of this man.
"You're right. Yeah!" He nodded emphatically. "Let's go on vacation for a whole week. Fuck it, longer than a week."
She giggled, diving in to hug him, relieved, happy…ready to just get out of there and see something different, with her man by her side. To get this aching tiredness out of her bones.
But then he cleared his throat. She knew that sound. She knew it well. And she tried not to tense up as he continued.
"Um…there is…something…" Sarah raised her eyebrows, breaking the hug to lean back and look at him. He seemed nervous. "Just something I've been thinking about. You know, while we were on your tour, but also just in general. Those moments when I've been thinking about, um, us. You an' me."
She pulled her bottom lip back between her teeth, giving him a look through her eyelashes. "You aren't breaking up with me, are you?"
Chuck let out a breathless, nervous laugh, shaking his head. "Good one. That was good."
Why was he nervous? What was going on? She gave him a dubious look, slowly sliding back from him, sitting cross-legged on the couch to look at him steadily.
"…Chuck?"
"Hi. Yes."
She gave him a flat look. He cleared his throat. And then he sighed and pulled his feet up to mimic her pose, crossing his legs and turning to face her back. It didn't work out as well for his extra long legs but he did it anyway, his knee all jammed up against the back of the couch.
"On the road, I-I mean, on tour… Well, you know, it saved money."
She furrowed her brow and tilted her head. Huh? "What did?"
"What did? Yeah. Right. Context. Maybe I can finish my thought and that'd help you out, huh?" He reached up to scratch the back of his head. "The two of us sharing hotel rooms and suites and stuff. Everyone got their own digs except for us. We…shared digs. While Critical Hellfire was on tour. And it felt…um, like a natural thing? Casey was booking where we'd stay and we were just like, yeah, of course… ya know? Book us in the same room. Because that's what this is. This relationship. It felt like it made sense. Neither of us had to dwell on it, we didn't have to have, like, a super intense convo first."
Sarah lowered her chin a little and looked up at him through her eyelashes again. What was he trying to say here? And apparently he needed prompting because he stayed quiet for an uncomfortably long time. "…Yeeeees…?"
"But I have been. Dwelling on it, I mean."
"You have?" She put her hands on her knees, squeezing tight. Where was this going? Why was she getting nervous now?
"Yeah. It felt really good. I'd be at the room, editing our archives on my laptop or somethin' and you'd come back after an interview you did with the band for a local news station, and you'd come over and put your arms around my neck and kiss my cheek and ask me what I'm workin' on while looking at my screen over my shoulder. It was, like… Fuck, I can't think of a word without weird connotations so I guess I'm gonna use it and hope you take it the right way. It felt…domesticated." He winced hard when she pulled her chin back and made a face. What in the hell? "Yeah. You're right. I should've just axed that last part altogether. Shit. Pretend I didn't say that word…?"
She nodded. "It's gone from my mind," she reassured him, even though it was a complete and utter lie.
Domesticated? Was he domesticating them in his head the whole time she'd been on tour with her band and with Games N Rock Sessions? When they climbed into bed together at night to sleep, when they woke up in the morning with their limbs all tangled? Brushing their teeth side by side? Sarah being so exhausted after a long day that she forgot to grab clothes when she stumbled into the bathroom for a shower, only to remember halfway through the shower and roll her eyes at herself…and then stepping out of the shower when she was finished to find that Chuck had stuck what she preferred to sleep in on the counter in a neat little stack?
Were they…domesticated?
How did she feel about that? What did that mean? Was it a bad thing? It had a weird nineteen-fifties housewife feeling to it, but that wasn't Chuck. He'd never expect her to conform like that, and she wouldn't expect him to conform either. Why was her brain doing this to her right now?
"What I'm trying to say is that I was also thinking about the last few years. Our lives here. Our…life here. Since, like, we're individuals, of course, and independent, and have our own careers and friend groups and paths, but I think our paths are also overlapped, too? Like, we're living this life together, you an' me. In spite of allowing each other to be separate people. I'm…veering off from what I'm trying to say though. Ahem. There were times I was asleep and I'd feel you crawl into bed with me, with those freezing feet of yours. It'd be super late after you got home from a gig that was out of town, a gig I couldn't make it out to for whatever reason. It felt so good, like you-you were coming home and wanted to be where I was instead of in your loft by yourself. And I felt it, too. Morgan and I being out late and I'd drop him off at home and instead of coming back here, I'd go to your loft and crawl into bed with you. Because I love my house, I love this place so much, I love living with my sister, and I've also started to realize that there's no place in the world that feels more like home than…wherever I am with you. Not even this house feels more like a home for me than…than you. A hotel room in New Orleans felt like home because I was there with you, Sarah. That terrifying definitely haunted place up near Big Sky and the eight of us were the only ones in the whole fuckin' hotel? Even that place felt like home because I was there with you."
"We didn't sleep a wink," she said quietly, her chest filling like someone was pouring melted chocolate into it. Oh so slowly.
"Well, if we had slept we definitely would've been murdered by ghosts, baby. So yeah. But still… Home. Wrapped up in bed with you, clinging to each other, shivering, terrified out of our minds. But home."
Sarah let out a long sigh, smiling at him. Everything he said was settling so wonderfully inside of her, like he'd pulled it all out from her own heart. "Yeah," she finally breathed. "Me, too. Come to think of it."
All the times he couldn't be at a gig, whether because he and Morgan had to stream, or it was out of town and they had other work going on, she'd get back and want to be with him instead of curling up in her own bed alone. Or the times he was off doing stuff with Morgan, she'd hang out with Ellie, and Ellie didn't even have to say a word, no need to invite her, just the unspoken agreement and Sarah would crawl into Chuck's bed instead of going home, only to find him climbing in with her sometime later in the night or in the early morning.
He did feel like home. More than anything in her life ever had.
"I've been, um, behaving like more of an adult the last few years, actually putting money into savings, which…pffft…" He made an explosion sound, grabbing his head. "What? Saving money? A novel concept. At least, it is for an adult child."
"You aren't an adult child," she said vehemently.
"Not anymore. I was. But-But that's the point I'm tryin' to make. I don't know what'd be better for us. I don't know if either of us wants to even…leave…uh, where we are. Our respective places have lots of pros, you know, and—"
There was a loud thumping on the staircase, following by a booming, "You guys sure you don't want buuuurgeerrssss? Last call—"
"NOT RIGHT NOW, AWESOME, I'M TRYING TO ASK SARAH IF SHE WANTS TO LIVE TOGETHER!" Chuck snapped out through his clenched jaw.
Sarah's jaw fell open, and she glanced up at Devon who was still stooped comically to look at them with only his calves and his head visible, hanging halfway down the staircase, his own jaw on the floor.
"I'm…gonna assume no on the burgers. 'Kay. Bye. Good luck, bro!" He sprinted back up the stairs and the door shut with a thud.
When Chuck turned back, it must've struck him that he'd actually just…said those words out loud. But to his sister's fiancé instead of to the person he was trying to say them to. With all of the spiraling and rambling he was doing, he had yet to actually…say it.
But he just had said it…and it was sinking in for her. She had to pick her jaw up out of her lap in case he got the wrong idea.
His face crumbled in mortification. "Shit. I'm...I'm gonna apologize to him later for biting off his head, but his timing…really sucked," he muttered in misery.
"It did."
And she waited, her heart racing, watching him as he unfolded his legs and turned to sit properly on the couch again. He looked so deflated and that made her feel awful. She didn't want him to be deflated; she wanted him to be able to ask her things like this with confidence. Confidence in himself, in her, in their relationship.
She reached over, sliding her hand onto his shoulder, and she scooted in close, propping her chin where her hand just was. "Chuck."
"Yeah…"
"Ask me."
"Yeah, I know. I'm giving myself a second. I really bungled it." He turned to look at her then. "You think you wanna figure something out with me? Like…living arrangements that put us…together in the same place?"
This freaking guy. What in the hell was he doing with his words?
"Are you asking me to live with you?" she helped.
"Yeah."
"Yes."
"I know it's complicated. I love it here. You love your loft above your radical warehouse. But I think—Wait." He blinked, finally having her answer absorb in his brain, she thought. "What? Yes?"
"Yes. Let's live together. I…don't know what it's gonna look like right now. I don't know where. I don't know how long it's gonna take to get there. But my answer is yes. I love you and I want to live with you." She was confident about it. In spite of all of the questions surrounding it, she knew she wanted it. More than anything.
"I…don't have any answers to those questions," he admitted, that extremely delicious slow smile of his growing across his handsome face. "Not yet anyway. But I love you, too, and I know we'll get there together."
"Yeah," she said through her grin. She grabbed him and dove in for a long kiss. But then she broke it again, leaving him breathless as she panted, "But vacation first."
"Of course," he said, nodding. "Vacation first." He surged up to kiss her this time.
She grinned even harder into his lips, twisting her fists in his hoodie and using her grip to ease him down to lie across the couch, his legs akimbo under hers. Things got more heated pretty fast, and he had his hand up her shirt, playing with the clasp of her bra when the thunder of footsteps on the stairs happened again.
"What was her ans—Oh!"
"Devon!" Sarah broke the kiss and snapped over her shoulder.
The surgeon winced apologetically, holding up a hand. "I'm goin'! …But…your answer…?"
She smirked as Chuck tried to yell at him to get out, still pinned under her. She knew the only way to actually get the other blonde out of the basement was to flash him a thumbs up. So she did, just one thumb, a smug grin on her face.
His face lit up as he clambered back up the stairs with an, "ELLIE, SHE SAID YES! HE DID IT! SHE SAID—"
The door slammed shut and she collapsed into a fit of giggles against Chuck's chest, adrenaline, bliss, and a deep, deep sense of being exactly where she belonged draping over her like a warm weighted blanket.
His arms tightened around her and he squeezed, muttering, "What a fuggin' nut…"
No matter where she went in the world, no matter which bands and musicians and singers Critical Hellfire performed with, even if they someday got their own openers who'd come on to introduce them in their own right… this was where she belonged. With these people. Her people.
A family she'd chosen for herself.
fin
A/N: I made myself laugh out loud picturing Sarah Walker say, "Kiss my ass deadly" because my sense of humor is deeply dorky. Which works because so is Sarah's.
Anywho, that's the end! Thanks for reading this thing. It has been a huge savior for me, getting to sit down and write all of this silliness, with the crazy upheaval I was going through in my work life and personal life and everything. Thanks for giving this space and thanks to most of you for not being mean about it. It means a lot. I'll see you folks on my other fics (hopefully!) so keep a lookout for more updates!
Love you nerds a lot!
-SC
