A/N: We continue our tale.
Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck
That night, in her room, staring at the green walls, his words played through her head on repeat. She pulled out her phone, and downloaded the Spotify app, wondering what Chuck would say to that. She couldn't help but smile, thinking about his reaction to it. Typing in the song he had told her, she set her phone to connect to the Bluetooth speakers in her room.
Well, you almost had me fooled
Told me that I was nothing without you
Oh, but after everything you've done
I can thank you for how strong I have become
She snorted derisively. That was what her father, Graham, and Bryce had done. She loved her father, and he had used her. Graham, he just used her, no love involved. And Bryce… God, she thought she loved him, and maybe she did. But it was obvious that if he did love her, he didn't even come close to loving her the way he loved himself.
'Cause you brought the flames and you put me through hell
I had to learn how to fight for myself
And we both know all the truth I could tell
I'll just say this is "I wish you farewell"
She had been through hell and back. She had next to no normal childhood because of her father. Then her teenage years were stolen, because of her father and Graham. She shook her head. Chuck knew his music, that was for sure.
I hope you're somewhere prayin', prayin'
I hope your soul is changin', changin'
I hope you find your peace
Falling on your knees, prayin'
I'm proud of who I am
No more monsters, I can breathe again
And you said that I was done
Well, you were wrong and now the best is yet to come
'Cause I can make it on my own, oh
And I don't need you, I found a strength I've never known
I'll bring thunder, I'll bring rain, oh
When I'm finished, they won't even know your name
You brought the flames and you put me through hell
I had to learn how to fight for myself
And we both know all the truth I could tell
I'll just say this is "I wish you farewell"
She found herself softly singing the chorus, tears lightly falling.
I hope you're somewhere prayin', prayin'
I hope your soul is changin', changin'
I hope you find your peace
Falling on your knees, prayin'
Ah sometimes, I pray for you at night, oh
Someday, maybe you'll see the light
Whoa oh, some say, in life, you're gonna get what you give
But some things only God can forgive
She shut her eyes, just feeling the music, the beat, the words as they washed over her. She reached over, grabbed her phone, and put the song on repeat.
Yeah! (I hope you're somewhere prayin', prayin')
I hope your soul is changin', changin'
I hope you find your peace
Falling on your knees, prayin'
She blew out a breath, turned the volume down, and had it playing in the background, as she thought. Chuck's words kept playing through her head.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry about what happened to you. You didn't deserve that."
He didn't deserve what happened to him, either. Something in her head kept bothering her. It was a conversation she'd had with Beckman a few days before she flew to LA.
"And when we're done with Mr. Bartowski, I'm done, right?" Sarah asked.
"Yes, you are done," she replied. She took a sip of her drink. "Now Mr. Bartowski…" Beckman shook her head.
What did that mean? What was going to happen to Chuck. She paused the music, pulled up Beckman's number, and dialed it. She listened to the phone ring. "Walker, is everything okay?" Beckman answered.
"It is," Sarah replied. "I've begun to tell Chuck what happened."
"And how did he take it?" Beckman asked.
"About as well as can be expected, General," Sarah told her.
"I'm guessing he didn't sign any documents," Beckman observed. Sarah started to reply. "I trust you on this, Sarah," Beckman added quickly. "But, we will need them, to process his payment."
"Understood," Sarah told her. "I do have a question."
"I figured you would," Beckman answered. Sarah swore she heard amusement in her voice. "I said too much the other night."
"What did you mean?" Sarah asked. "What will happen to Chuck?"
Beckman was silent for a moment. Sarah wondered why she had referred to Chuck as Chuck, instead of Mr. Bartowski. "You know that the reason this has been kept quiet, is because so far, this has been kept to a small group of people. For the payment to be processed, it will pass through many hands, and you can bet someone will leak this. They will hound Mr. Bartowski. Lawyers will come out of the woodwork, saying he needs to sue for more. He will be approached to sell his story. He will have to continually re-live what happened to him at Stanford. Mr. Bartowski is many things, but we both know that this will hurt him."
"It will," Sarah agreed.
"And we both know that you will slip away," Beckman continued. "You can live without others. It's what made you so effective. But Mr. Bartowski… where can he go?"
Sarah was silent for a second. "It wouldn't have to be forever for him," she said out loud. She was thinking out loud and speaking her thoughts. "Get him away for three to six months…"
"And where would he go. Sarah?" Beckman's words slammed into her. She was no longer an agent. "Wherever he went, there would be people asking him about what happened."
"He needs someone to protect him," Sarah said, again, thinking out loud.
"If only there was someone who had the ability and the background," Beckman mused.
"Wait," Sarah began.
"As you said, with this, your part is over," Beckman reminded her. "Keep me posted." And with that, Beckman hung up.
}o{
The camera cuts to Sarah sitting in the interview chair.
"So, for the record, you were not tasked with guarding Chuck by the United States Government?" Morgan asked.
"No," Sarah replied. "The order came from someone much higher."
"Who?" Morgan asked.
"Me," Sarah replied, grinning.
}o{
Chuck looked up at the few remaining DVDs that the store carried. He swore he felt that someone was watching him, but it was probably just his mind, from Sarah's revelation that she had been watching him for a bit. The store looked so much different than it had when he first started working there in high school. The days of DVDs… gone. Now it was mostly computers, phones, appliances, and more TVs than he knew what to do with.
However, his job was in more demand than ever, due to the changing technology… and he could be on his way out. He had no idea how much money he was going to be offered, but from what Sarah had inferred… it was a butt-ton.
The customer service bell to his left rang, and he wondered why the person just hadn't spoken instead of ringing the bell. He turned and saw the smile on Sarah's face before he noticed anything else. She had her phone extended towards him. "Can you fix a phone?"
"Sure," Chuck answered, confused. "What's wrong with it, Sarah?"
"Apparently it doesn't work, since I've not received nary a text or a phone call," she replied, a grin on her face. She batted her eyelashes, making him chuckle. "Why are you at work?"
"Because… because they need me, and as of right now I still need money," Chuck answered. Sarah raised an eyebrow. "So, you're saying if I had called or texted you, I wouldn't have to be here?"
"You wouldn't have to be…but you would, anyway, wouldn't you?" Sarah replied. Chuck nodded. Sarah shook her head, still grinning. "You're a good one, Chuck Bartowski."
"You ever use that line before? Because that's a good one," Chuck said.
"Trying to deflect, huh?" Sarah asked. Chuck grinned. "Yeah, I have… in a former life."
"What's that like?" Chuck asked.
"What, trying to seduce someone, that someone usually not a good guy, to get intel out of him? Or some intel… on his person?" Sarah began. Chuck couldn't stop the disgusted face. "Listen, I know how television portrays that stuff, but thatdoesn't happen… at least it didn't with me." She shivered.
"I'm gonna guess some of those dudes are just not attractive," Chuck said, sobering at the thought.
"Also, hygiene isn't at the top of their list, either," Sarah said. Chuck gagged. "Exactly." She paused a second. "Most of that stuff… it's planned. It's a targeted approach in a controlled environment, something slipped in the drink or food of the target. The next morning, they remember nothing, have some left over euphoria from the drug, and think they got lucky."
"And you?" Chuck asked. "How are you the next day?"
She stared at him. No one, and she meant not a single person… had ever asked her how she was after one of those missions. "I'm usually in a hot shower until the tank runs out, trying to scrub the grossness off of me."
"And you had no choice," Chuck said softly. "You were made to do either that, or go to prison."
"Hell of a choice," Sarah agreed, nodding. "Well, I have apparently brought the mood down here."
"I don't know about that," Chuck disagreed. "I mean, yeah, we were more jokey before. But by sharing that with me, you've let me know that you get what I'm going through… hell, if anyone doesn't understand the other, it's me not understanding you. What I'm saying – poorly I might add – is thank you. Thank you for helping me when you didn't have to."
}o{
Camera cuts to Sarah sitting in the interview chair.
"Now what in the whole hell am I supposed to do with all of that? Huh?" She shook her head, blowing out a rough breath. "The first time in years – years – someone cared. Genuinely cared. Thankedme. I can't tell you the last time anyone had said those words to me, and he did. There was a part of me that said I should run, far and fast. That I should go hide. And I did. There is no question that I did. I just took him with me."
}o{
"I'm sorry," Chuck began.
"For what?" Sarah asked.
"I've been selfish," Chuck answered. "You have been through hell. And me over here, being all in my feelings and processing," he said with finger quotes, "has dragged this out for you. You deserve to live your own life, and enjoy it."
She was silent for a second. "You mean that?" she asked. Chuck nodded. "Fine, then how about tonight, we talk. But we talk at dinner. Do you know any good restaurants we could go to? It doesn't have to be anything special, just somewhere with good food, and possibly a good mojito, 'cause I just love those things."
"How do you feel about Mexican?" Chuck asked. Sarah smiled.
}o{
Camera cuts to Chuck in the interview seat
"I truly felt bad," Chuck admitted. "She was here because of me, and I was wallowing in my own self-pity and what she had been through. I figured she wanted to get away. And I was right, she did. I just had no idea how far, or that she would take me with her." He paused for a second, looking like he was searching for the right words.
"I don't think either of us planned for what happened," Chuck said. "It's almost like… we had no choice…" He grinned. "But we did make some choices.
A/N: You kinda gotta have that Buy More scene in some fashion, don't ya?
Next time:
"Chuck…some things hurt Chuck the same that day as they did when the hurt was inflicted." She sat there quietly for a second, searching for words. "And the fact…the fact he trusted me. The fact…the fact I was enough. A person he barely knew."
She shook her head. "I mean, I was a killer, a spy, a con artist, but someone to be trusted….no. At least, I thought I wasn't. But Chuck…Chuck's choice to trust me….it reminded me of who I wanted to be in life. It reminded me of what I wanted to be in life…and I can never…and I mean never, repay that to him." She grinned. "And trust me, I have done my best to try."
A gagging sound is heard off camera
I can hear you now, "David, will this be as long as Lights, Camera, Action?" No, there's no way. This is, at max, 12-15 chapters…what was that prereaders? You say I said Lights, Camera, Action was supposed to be 12-15 chapters…..oh boy.