A/N: Thank you to Zettel for pre-reading. Just a short epilogue after this one. Drop me a line.

Sarah chose to break the silence after her car slowly rolled to a stop. She shifted to park, but left the engine running. They were on the opposite side of the building from the cameras Chuck had accessed.

"So we will enter there," she said, pointing to the door. "The building is large enough that if they entered on the other side, as we saw, we should be far distant enough to sneak in without being seen."

She turned to him, her eyes bright but her face grim. "My main priority is to get Jill out of harm's way. Then draw them out. I'll do everything I can to take them both. But if I can't…"

"I know, Sarah," Chuck told her solemnly. "I'll be right behind you."

Her bottom lip trembled before she clenched her teeth. "I didn't plan this," she choked. She lost a bit of her control, her calm. "I didn't want this." Louder, more shrill, self-lacerating. "Merry Christmas, Chuck," she scoffed bitterly as her eyes filled with tears. "I'm turning you into a killer."

"Sarah—" Understanding and confusion, hope and fear…and her name, in one word.

"No, Chuck. You told me before when Casey locked us up…killing was never your thing. I didn't understand that then… but I do now. I read it all...and I know who you are. This goes against everything that you believe. Why are you doing this?" Her volume had gradually increased with each sentence.

"Because I love you," he shouted, his voice loud to counteract her near hysterical pitch.

Everything– everything–he had done since the moment she had asked him to trust her as she sat beside him on the beach–he had done because he loved her.

Only calm radiated from him. "I technically never did that . But that never meant I wouldn't or I couldn't. You were always what mattered most to me. Worth dying for…and worth killing for. Because you're what I live for. Since the day I met you."

He had told her that long ago, told her again when she asked to hear their story. Now he was telling her yet again.

She stared, wide-eyed with wonder at his passionate conviction, unable to speak.

This time–-she believed it.

The realization rushed through him. "I'm not losing you again. I will never let anyone hurt you. Ever." He grabbed her hand and squeezed. "Now, let's go. I have your back."

She leaned forward, kissing him quickly but deeply. "I love you," she swore, emphasizing each word. An acknowledgment, a promise, a summation of all she was.

He could feel it, her love, inside himself, like another presence inside his heart.

Merry Christmas, Sarah. He didn't say it aloud, but it was the counter to her bitterness and regret. His willingness, his affirmation.

"Casey, we're on our way inside," Chuck said as he activated his earwig.

"Copy." Casey's voice in his ear. Moral support only, but it still made Chuck feel better.

With no verbal acknowledgement of Casey, Sarah was out of the car, her weapon out in front of her.

Chuck took a deep breath and followed her. The snow settled on his hair, icy flakes making his eyes sting as the wind whipped around him. He followed Sarah's careful footprints in the snow until they were under an overhang, sheltered from the wind.

He felt like he had been here, in a situation like this, a thousand times before. Sarah's face was the same, and as anxious as he felt with a loaded gun in his hand, his silent commiseration with her bolstered him. When she was with him, he was never afraid. Her strength, her courage fortified him.

They would be alright. Here, now…and forever.

Hope surged in his veins like a drug, emboldening him, increasing his strength. He had never used this Intersect for skills—but he could sift them now, rather than relying on the program's functionality to find the correct skill set for the problem at hand.

Firearms. Always there, even in the 2.0, but never used. He closed his eyes, forced the flash just by entertaining the thought.

The gun felt lighter in his hand, an extension of himself. He had practiced endlessly once the Intersect had gone, and his aim with a tranq pistol had rivaled Sarah's, thanks to her tutelage. The learned skills accentuated the skills in the Intersect; he felt like he could feel a radar, a laser sight, inside himself. Precise. Exact.

Sarah unscrambled the lock with her device and silently opened the door. They walked in almost complete darkness, onto a catwalk that overlooked the main floor. A dim fluorescent light hummed below them, shining a dingy light.

The two men were completely alone—no guards, no associates. They were speaking, but quietly, and Chuck was too far away to interpret any part of the conversation.

Why was it just the two of them? Was that misplaced confidence? Was their team already en route to Ellie?

Fortin had interacted with Sarah in the airport. Fortin may have been coming for Chuck, but Sarah was who they were after. Jill had to be here because of Sarah. Nothing else made sense.

Were Tipton and Fortin that ill prepared that they thought the two of them together were a match for Sarah, even by herself?

Or were they counting on her mercy…her desire to save Jill as their leverage? That was one thing the agent in Sarah had learned from him. Caring for others was a liability…but also the greatest motivation to fight, to protect all that was not worth losing.

Silently, Sarah motioned for Chuck to stay back while she advanced. Jill wasn't visible on the floor, where both men stood talking. There were a series of boiler rooms past the catwalk, the only confined areas in the entire building from their vantage point.

His senses were sharpened, enhanced in real time as, amazingly, he found the Intersect was firing in slow motion, like flipping the pages of a book. The sensation was new, unexpected, but welcome.

If this had actually worked like this before, there would have been almost no stopping them. This was what his father's dream had been. Ellie fixed it—and now it was perfect. He felt the Intersect as part of himself, rather than something lodged in his head. It was liberating. Unifying.

Sarah found Jill in the closest room, bound to a chair, the gag covering her mouth. Jill's eyes flashed in alarm as she saw Sarah approaching. Chuck watched from the shadows, staying behind as Sarah instructed.

Sarah reached for the cords binding Jill's hands. While she slit through the straps, Jill shook her head side to side harshly, her long hair flailing back and forth. Sarah released the gag from her mouth.

Chuck could hear Jill whispering harshly. "No, Sarah…no, please…you shouldn't be here…"

The words were slurred, whether from her bruised mouth or possible residual drugs in her system, Chuck wasn't sure.

"We're not leaving you," Sarah whispered back as she reached under Jill's arms to pull her to her feet.

Jill made eye contact with Chuck, even in the shadows, after Sarah's plural pronoun.

"I have to let them take me," Sarah whispered to Jill. "I won't let them hurt you."

Her quick briefing in the car hadn't included this part. Perhaps because of how disturbing a thought it was. Logical to a fault, seeing as Sarah was the only one indispensable to them.

"Walker, what are you doing?" Casey barked in Chuck's ear.

There was no way to communicate with Casey without giving their location away. Fortunately, Casey didn't argue when no one answered him.

Sarah planned on protecting Jill. And Chuck was protecting Sarah when things went sideways. Casey figured it out quickly.

Chuck stayed back, waiting for Sarah to change directions. Jill held onto Sarah's arm, support for what looked like painful limping.

Chuck trailed behind them as they moved, keeping himself hidden in the shadows. Sarah moved to stand under the lights defiantly.

"Sa…rah," Fortin sing-songed, as he stepped forward. "I was told you were better than this. I have seen you better than this…as, one by one, you slaughtered my comrades. You saved us a lot of dirty work, my dear. They were all meant as cannon fodder. I am curious, though. Just what did you hope to accomplish here?"

"Exactly what I wanted to," Sarah said. Her eyes narrowed as she jutted out her chin. Jill stayed behind Sarah, wobbling on her feet.

"You know, Edgar swore you had hardened up again, like you used to be when you were doing Graham's dirty work for him. He said he'd seen it up close, how that Intersect had reset you, resurrected you, made you forget all about your pathetic husband. But here you are…putting yourself in danger to protect this…useless piece of trash."

Fortin stepped closer, his gun outstretched, now inches from Sarah's face. She could smell his foul breath.

"I must give Bartowski credit, though. He has… impeccable taste in women," Fortin hissed.

Even from his vantage point, Chuck could see Sarah, ready to strike. Her shoulders tensed, her heels set on the floor to balance. Fortin was too busy shooting his mouth off to notice he was about to be attacked. Sarah's eyes shifted subtly, communicating. Jill saw, Chuck noted. Everyone was ready…and Fortin was not.

Sarah lunged, disarming him with lightning speed. The gun clattered as it bounced along on the cement floor. Her leg went up and back, straight into Fortin's solar plexus. Sarah chopped at Fortin as he tried to stand and was pulled down with him as her attack set him off balance and they fell. Jill dropped to her hands and knees, attempting to crawl into the shadows. All of that in just the blink of an eye.

A gunshot…and Sarah cried out. Chuck could see the droplets of blood sprayed on Fortin's face as he struggled with Sarah.

Sarah's blood.

Chuck's entire field of vision reddened, like he was looking through the viewfinder of an infrared scope.

Fortin flung Sarah from him, a trail of blood dancing in the air above her like a ribbon. She hit the ground, clear of Fortin, who had Sarah's gun in his hand…aimed at Jill.

Chuck rushed forward, only to see a blur of motion at the same instant he heard the crack of another bullet being fired.

Edgar, shielding Jill as she crawled towards Sarah, took Fortin's bullet in the back. Jill screamed.

The final act was many pieces all moving at the same time. Only half-aware that he had shot his accomplice, Fortin's arm swung wide, the gun pointed at Sarah's chest. Chuck saw Sarah's hand, her fingers curling around the gun by her side…a split second too late.

Chuck's inner laser activated. He aimed and fired, one smooth, quicksilver motion, hitting Fortin point blank in the chest before he could fire.

He was dead before he hit the ground.

The combat haze lifted. Chuck could hear Casey in his ear again, wondering if Casey had been speaking through all that and Chuck had just tuned it out.

"Damn it, Chuck, answer me! Status! I hear gunfire," Casey shouted.

Sarah, bleeding, struggled to sit up. She was holding the same arm that had been injured at the airport.

"Sarah, baby, please," he gasped, everything else around them fading to the background.

"Chuck," she gasped, reaching for him. "It's ok. I think the old wound opened. I'm ok," she repeated.

It was a lot of blood, but he quickly checked under her hand. Her jacket was unscathed, no new bullet holes. The blood was seeping out, from under the bandage she had applied earlier. Again, he tore a piece of his own clothing to help staunch the bleeding.

The soft sound of Jill crying made him turn around.

She sat beside Edgar Tipton's dead body, both of her hands wet with his blood.

"We're all clear, Casey," Chuck said quietly, turning away slightly.

"Ellie's location is secured. Currently tactical team is standing down."

Chuck steeled himself as the wave of relief encompassed him, weakening his legs.

"Why would he do that?" Jill asked, as she looked at Chuck as he stood over them. "I don't…I don't understand any of this."

Why indeed, Chuck thought. Sarah had been closer to the truth than Chuck had ever imagined.

Would Alexei Volkoff have dived in front of a bullet for Chuck's mother? Even if it was only so he could be the one to kill her, as twisted and sick as that thought was.

Perhaps this was somewhere in between. Chuck's mother wouldn't have shed a tear if that had happened, but Jill was visibly affected by the inexplicable gesture.

"Because he didn't want you to die," Chuck said softly, the best explanation he could give, the least upsetting.

The surreal nature of the situation was disorienting, as he tried to recall the last time he had spoken to Jill. In the Fulcrum base, handing her the ring the CIA had offered as a prop.

He had hoped she could find peace, a new life. Sadly, all this time, she had been right back where she had been when he had seen her again after five years apart.

She was the same; he was a different person, changed over and over again as his love had transformed his life.

It was Sarah who moved past Chuck, pulling Jill to her feet despite her injury. "He gave you another chance. Don't waste it this time," Sarah told her.

"Chuck, are you alright?" Sarah asked sharply. The question encompassed everything, what he had seen, what he had done — everything since the airport.

He felt strange, amazed that the feeling was so similar to the past, as he'd watched Daniel Shaw fall into the Seine. He had traded a part of his own soul to protect what he loved more than himself.

So strange…he had forgotten, as he'd held Sarah's unconscious body in his arms on the bridge after that incident, it was then that he understood what she had endured that Christmas Eve when he'd witnessed her execute Mauser. Such actions were a burden, but as before, as always, they carried each other's burdens.

"I will be," he told her.