Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck

Chuck shook his head, frustrated with himself. Sarah was a professional, and the last thing she needed was his worry-wart ass fussing over her, but… something was… hinky? Was that the word? Hinky? Hinky. Chuck nodded, glad that he had wasted time figuring out what word to use, that his girlfriend might be in some danger.

God, this case was bothering him. The fact someone could just kill themselves because of… Chuck shook his head, trying to rid the thoughts. The last few cases had dealt with some dark shit… well, there was the Abbot of Costello, but in the end, a man had died.

However this case worked out, a woman was dead, either by suicide, or she was killed. And the love of his life was in that same physical place that the victim had been… alone. Not that he could do much to help her. He knew she was perfectly capable of handling herself, but… he wasn't there. He was out here, doing the work, helping her, and while he knew it was necessary… something about this whole thing was bothering him. Maybe it was never seeing the client? He didn't know, but right now, the man he needed to see was getting out of his golf cart.

"Dr. Anton Weiss?" Chuck called out to the man. "Hi! How are you doing? I must seem crazy… wait, I shouldn't say that to… Let me try this again." The doctor was staring at Chuck. "My name is Chuck Bartowski, and I am a private investigator."

"If you are, Mr. Bartowski, then you should know I can't discuss any of my patients," the doctor said, turning away.

"What if that patient is dead, Dr. Weiss?" Chuck asked. The doctor turned and stared at Chuck. "Kayla Hart… she came to see you within the past week, right?"

"She's dead?" Dr. Weiss replied, looking shook.

"I'm going to guess you didn't know that Kayla would kill herself?" Chuck asked him. Dr. Weiss seemed confused.

"You're telling me Kayla died of suicide? That's what you're saying?" Dr. Weiss asked.

"That is how her death is being classified right now," Chuck told the doctor. "And, well, not to be indelicate, but does this mean you can talk about her now?"

"Well, yes," the doctor replied, clearly bothered by this news. "But, not because she's dead. Kayla was never my patient."

"Okay, now I'm confused," Chuck admitted. "If she was never your patient, why was she coming to see you?"

"For a second opinion," Dr Weiss explained. "She was asking about schizophreniform disorder." Chuck was even more confused about this new information. "She wanted to know symptoms, medications, and… uh, appropriate dosages."

"Did Kayla believe that she had this disorder?" Chuck asked, trying to understand what was going on. "Had she self-diagnosed herself, or had someone told her she was?"

"No," the doctor replied, shaking his head. He paused. "I'm hesitant to say because she is dead which means…" He trailed off, and Chuck was more confused than ever. "I'm pretty sure this was about a patient at the place where she worked."

"Pretty sure?" Chuck asked.

"She never said directly, and I didn't ask. But I do know that the patient she was talking about was one that wasn't exhibiting any common symptoms of schizophreniform but was being given enough Thorazine to knock out a grizzly bear."

}o{

Chuck pulled up to the facility and watched for Sarah. He told her he needed to talk to her ASAP, and with this new information, he didn't think a phone call was the correct way to go. He nearly jumped out of his skin when the passenger door opened, and she slid in beside him.

"You okay there, Buddy?" she asked, grinning.

"Not hardly," Chuck said. Sarah gave him a concerned look, and he relayed everything Dr Weiss had told him.

Sarah sat there quietly for a moment. "If Kayla was worried about a patient…" She trailed off, turning to Chuck. "Maybe that's why she broke into the med station." Chuck nodded. "Maybe she was looking for proof that the patient was being overdosed."

"A mistake like that could end someone's career," Chuck added. Sarah nodded. "Chances are this could be what got Kayla killed." Sarah opened the tablet from the facility and began to go through records.

"What are you doing?" Chuck asked.

"I'm going to find out which patient she was talking about," Sarah told him. She glanced at him and then back to the tablet. "I can work a tablet you know."

"No, I'm aware," Chuck told her. "There are so many things that you can work."

"Sir, I am trying to concentrate on the case," she joked. "Okay, there are apparently six current patients diagnosed with schizophreniform in the facility at the moment."

"So, you're going to have to talk to all of them?" Chuck asked.

Sarah shook her head. "No, the system also flags who interacts with the patients." She clicked a few buttons. "So, only one of them has had a recent interaction with Kayla… a Mr. Steven Li." She frowned. "Wait, I spoke to him this morning... or I tried to. He was unresponsive."

"Say, like he was, oh I don't know… massively overdosed with Thorazine, or something?" Chuck asked.

"Yep," Sarah replied, and went back to the tablet. "Okay, according to the key card logs, Kayla spent thirty minutes in Steven's room three weeks ago." She gave Chuck a look.

"Is that significant? Three weeks ago?" Chuck asked.

"When Bruce was telling me what happened, he said three weeks was when everything began to change."

"What in the hell happened in that room?" Chuck asked.

Sarah shook her head. "I have no idea, but according to Steven's patient intake form, he was only expected to be here for two to four weeks."

"And how long has he been here?" Chuck asked.

"Over two years," Sarah told him. His eyes went wide. "Miranda prides herself on keeping those beds filled. Maybe she's keeping him here for the insurance money."

"So, we have ourselves a possible scam?" Chuck asked. Sarah nodded. "Okay, if we're gonna crack this, he needs to talk. And to do that, we have to get him out of here."

"Agreed," Sarah said.

"We're gonna need someone with power of attorney to get him out," Chuck continued. Sarah nodded. "Does it show in there who is paying for his care?"

"Oh, of course it does," Sarah said, making Chuck chuckle. "So, it appears a man named Derek Evans is paying."

"I'm assuming Derek is a relative?" Chuck asked.

"It doesn't say," Sarah said, shaking her head. "Oh, wait. This is strange." She read for a moment. "So, orderlies are required to file a report whenever they have a significant interaction with a patient."

"Kayla filed a report?" Chuck asked. Sarah nodded. "The suspense is palpable. You're killing me here Smalls. What does it say?"

"Did you just quote The Sandlot to me?" Sarah asked. Chuck grinned at her. "So, it just says that Steven vomited, and it took Kayla a while to clean it up." Chuck gave her a look. "That isn't what's strange."

"You're just being dramatic," Chuck accused her.

"Learned it from you," she snarked back, grinning. "According to their records, Kayla modified her report…" She trailed off, looking up at Chuck triumphantly. "The day after she died."

"Huh," Chuck replied. "I don't think things work that way."

"They tend not to," Sarah agreed.

"So, if Kayla was killed because she figured out Steven Li was being overdosed, then whoever changed that report could be our killer," Chuck offered.

"I'm gonna see if I can dig up the original version of that report," Sarah told him.

"Sarah… maybe it's time for you to get out of there," Chuck said. "You're all alone."

"I'm okay," Sarah told him. "I promise, I'll be careful."

"I don't like this," Chuck admitted.

"Noted, and appreciated," Sarah told him. "Why don't you go track down Derek Evans." Chuck leaned over and kissed her. "I promise, I'll be careful." She got out of the car and Chuck watched her go inside, a gnawing feeling in his gut.

Sarah went in, headed down the corridor to the common area, and saw Steven sitting there, staring off into space. Sarah walked over, squatting down beside him. "Steven, I know you don't belong here, and I'm gonna get you out." Steven's eyes moved to look at her, but it seemed as if he didn't have the ability to physically move his head. Sarah patted his shoulder, and walked away.

}o{

Chuck walked down the beach and found the man who resembled the photo for Derek Evans. "Derek Evans, right?" Chuck asked.

The man looked at Chuck, a little surprised. "Uh, yeah? Can I help you?"

"My name is Chuck Bartowski, and I'm a private investigator for Castle Securities." The man nodded. "I'm working on a case at a hospital, and I'm looking into a potential problem that may involve a man named Steven Li."

Derek began to look concerned. "What kind of problem? Is he okay?"

"Well, that's what I'm trying to find out," Chuck told Derek. "You pay for his care, right?"

Derek nodded. "Yeah, his parents couldn't afford the hospital, so I cover it… he's my cousin."

"So, from what I understand, you two started a business together?" Chuck inquired.

"Yeah, Ocean Wave Surfboards," Derek said. "But… I'm more of the business guy, you know? The numbers, financials, all of that, I handle. Steve… he was the master shaper." Derek got a smile on his face as he talked about Steven. "Man, he designed all our boards. He was a genius, man, until, uh..." Derek trailed off, and so did the smile.

"Until what?" Chuck asked as gently as possible.

"Well, Steve's bipolar, so he'd always struggled with his mental health," Derek began. "But when our company started taking off, we had orders coming in from all over the world. He was under a ton of pressure." Derek paused, and when he continued, his voice was softer, and full of sadness. "It just happened one day, you know? Steve… he had an episode at our factory."

"I'm so sorry," Chuck told Derek.

"Thanks," Derek said. "He just started freaking out, screaming, throwing things. I had to call. But he should have been there for only a few weeks, right? It's been two years. Trust me, nothing would make me happier than to see Steve walk out of there right now. You know, without him, the company fell apart. I had to sell... but they tell me he still has to be there, so what am I supposed to do?"

Chuck nodded. He had been around people at the Buy More who had told stories. Some of them outlandish, some of them not, but at some point, Chuck always got a feeling of when something just wasn't right. He didn't want to say anything, but right now… he was having that feeling.

"Well, thanks for your help," Chuck told Derek. "If anything changes, I'll reach out to you."

"Thanks," Derek said. "Yeah. Let me know, man. I'd love for him to be home."

"Alright. Take care," Chuck told Derek. As he started back to his car, his cell phone went off. "Chuck Bartowski," he answered.

"Mr. Bartowski," he heard on the other end of the line. "It's Dr. Weiss."

"Hello, Dr. Weiss, did you remember something?"

"Yes… no… maybe," Dr. Weiss said. "There was one thing I didn't tell you that I thought maybe you should know. Kayla let it slip that she was trying to decide whether to talk to her boyfriend about what was going on."

"Why would she do that?" Chuck asked. "I didn't think he was a doctor."

"No, Bryce isn't a doctor, as far as I knew," Dr. Weiss said.

"Sir… did you say Bryce?"

"Yes," Dr. Weiss replied. Chuck felt his blood run cold.

"We were hired by a Bruce Anderson," Chuck told Dr. Weiss. "He claimed to be her boyfriend."

"I could of swore Kayla said his name was Bryce Lapkin," Dr. Weiss replied.

"Do you mean Bryce Larkin?" Chuck asked.

"That's it!" Dr. Weiss replied.

"Thank you, Dr. Weiss. I have something I have to take care of," Chuck said, and hung up the phone. He found Anna's number, and shot her a text.

Anna, do you happen to know where Bruce is

I do. He's in your office. I let him use your non-work computer.

Anna, don't let him leave, he's been lying to us. I'll be right there.

He will be as well.

}o{

Chuck walked into the office, and glanced around. Anna was sitting at her desk, smiling. "Did he get away?" Anna shook her head, her smile growing. "Where is he?"

"In your office," she replied, looking quite pleased with herself. Chuck walked over to his office door and opened it.

He stared at the sight in front of him.

Bryce was sitting in the chair across from Chuck's desk. It appeared something approximating an entire roll of electrical tape had been used to secure him to the chair. "There's a gag in his mouth, and tape holding that in place."

Chuck started to say something, and then thought better of it. Instead, he asked "Is he awake?".

"Eh, he's drowsy. I spiked his drink," Anna told him.

"How much?" Chuck asked, looking at what appeared to be a lifeless form in front of him. "I mean… are we going to have to report a murder?"

"He lied to us, who cares?" Anna asked.

"Well, heisa CIA agent," Chuck told Anna. Anna's eyes went wide.

}o{

"This will probably hurt," Anna said. The two were standing in front of Bryce, trying to figure out how to wake him up, and get him loose from all the tape.

"He lied and got me kicked out of college," Chuck muttered. Anna stared at Chuck. "I'm serious. He planted a false test under my bed, and I got kicked out of Stanford. Anna walked over, grabbed part of the tape, and jerked.

"YEOWWWCH!" Bryce bellowed.

"Any skin?" Chuck asked, looking at the tape in Anna's hands.

"Not that I can see," she said, turning it slowly where they could both inspect it. She looked Bryce dead in the eye. "What if I put it all over his head and we see how many of those pretty little hairs we could yank out." Bryce's eyes widened.

"Be glad she's in a committed relationship, or she might try that same trick in another area of your body, if you know what I mean," Chuck said. Anna glanced at Bryce's crotch.

"JESUS CHRIST!" Bryce yelled. "Do you two realize who I am?"

Chuck leaned in, and spoke softly. "I am quite aware of who you are." Bryce gulped. "Is this a CIA operation?"

"What? No!" Bryce replied.

"And why should I believe you?" Chuck asked.

"Because hate me if you must, but what I did, I did for your own good," Bryce said. "Why would I put you in a CIA operation if I literally kept you out of the CIA?"

"Because you do what you think best, and if you decided that I could figure something out about your partner that you couldn't-" Chuck began.

"She's not my partner, Chuck!" Bryce said, cutting Chuck off. "At least… not a CIA partner." He looked away. "She is… was…" He looked back at Chuck. "She was my girlfriend, and I loved her."

Chuck was silent for a moment. "Damn it," he muttered.

"Don't tell me you believe him," Anna said.

Chuck gave her a look. "You are the one who literally brought him to our doorstep," Chuck reminded her.

"Well, yeah, I mean, look at him," Anna said gesturing toward him. "He's pretty."

"He is," Chuck admitted.

"Do you know how much I hate it when you do that?" Bryce muttered.

"And charming as fuck," Anna continued.

"So charming," Chuck concurred.

"Really, it's a little weird," Bryce muttered.

"And just pretty," Anna finished.

"I'm quite intelligent you know," Bryce added in.

"Do you know how many girls came up to me, to meet him?" Chuck asked.

"If I'm not mistaken, I introduced you to your girlfriend," Bryce pointed out.

"WHO BROKE UP WITH ME BECAUSE OF WHAT YOU DID!" Chuck bellowed at Bryce. Bryce winced. "Did you have to sleep with her?"

"Wait. She said I slept with her?" Chuck nodded. "Listen, I have done some low-down dirty shit," Bryce began.

"Said everyone who slept with you," Anna cut in.

"Nice," Chuck said, giving her a high-five.

"That's rather sophomoric," Bryce protested.

"What can I say, I never got my college degree," Chuck said with a shrug. Bryce rolled his eyes. "Sorry… continue."

"I didn't sleep with Jill," Bryce insisted. "Also, I found you two because you're the best PIs around, and I knew what you'd do. You wouldn't quit until you figured out what happened."

"Did he just say you're better at his job than he is?" Anna asked.

"Oh, the research and getting to the bottom of something, sure," Chuck said with a shrug. "The other slimy stuff… that's all his bag."

"Chuck," Bryce began. "Chuck, the woman I loved was murdered." Chuck reached down and began to try and remove the tape.

"Here, let me," Anna said. "You go…detect, or whatever you need to do."

"Do you have any leads?" Bryce asked.

"Yeah," Chuck replied. "I need to follow up on something Derek Evans told me." Chuck walked over to his desk. "He's the one who may be behind a patient being in the hospital for two years when it only should have been a few weeks."

"Why would someone do that?" Bryce asked. Chuck looked up at him. "I'm guessing it's not sex."

"Not that I can tell," Chuck said.

"Money?" Bryce asked. Chuck nodded. "How?"

"Derek and the patient, Steven, were business partners," Chuck told Bryce, typing. He sat back, letting out a low whistle.

"I know that whistle," Bryce said.

Chuck nodded. "Yeah, you do," Chuck agreed. "Derek Evans just lied to me. He said he decided to sell the business after Steven was committed, but I found an article from a couple years ago that said he got an eight-figure offer right before Steven had his psychiatric episode."

Bryce rubbed his wrists that had been freed from the tape. "So how would this work?" Bryce asked out loud.

"Derek's the businessman, and Steven is the creator," Chuck pointed out.

Bryce nodded. "So, Derek wanted to sell the company, and Steven didn't?" Bryce offered.

"That works," Chuck said. "And he was always bipolar, but if a medicine was switched out, that could explain the outburst."

"A medicine like that wouldn't show up on a normal tox screen," Bryce agreed. "But the problem is, that's only gonna work for a short time, until those meds leave Steven's system."

"That's where the inside person comes from," Chuck pointed out. He pulled out his cell phone, and dialed her number. It went straight to voicemail. And what felt like a cold hand constricted his heart.

A/N: Next time:

Sarah watched the nurse leave the med center, walked over to the door, used the stolen card, and slipped inside. She checked her surroundings, saw no one, and slipped the USB drive that Chuck had made her to hack into systems into the USB slot. In seconds, she was in.

She ran a search for the patient in question, and found the report prepared by Kayla. Her eyes locked on the sentence that read, patient should be receiving 400 mg of thorazine a day, but his vomit contained 1200 mg of thorazine.

She was staring at the sentence, realizing what she found, when she felt a prick in her neck. She looked over to see nurse Tanaka holding a syringe, the needle in her neck, and the contents slowly being pushed into her. Sarah collapsed to her side as Nurse Tanaka muttered, "I really wish you hadn't made me do this."