A/N: Another quick thank you to Zettel for pre-reading; this chapter's messages are much clearer for it. :)

They gave you life

And in return you gave them hell

As cold as ice

I hope we live to tell the tale

I hope we live to tell the tale

Shout

Shout

Let it all out

These are the things I can do without

Come on

I'm talking to you

Come on

"Shout"

Tears for Fears

December 8, 2012

Zurich, Switzerland

As soon as Chuck told Ciel Marseille was his mother, Sarah instantly pictured the woman's face. The photograph on his phone only reinforced the image. Brown hair, blue eyes…the woman was significantly shorter than Sarah. Chuck's father's face came along with the memory…wild sandy hair and kind green eyes, taller but still not as tall as Chuck. Sarah felt an internal twinge as she recalled…Stephen and Mary…had been separated when Chuck was nine and never reunited again; Stephen was killed a year before Mary returned.

My mother-in-law rescued me. Why would she not tell Chuck I was alive?

The impression of Mary that filled Sarah's mind was one of mystery. More questions than answers, uncertainty surrounding every word, every action. Sarah was sure that with Mary nothing was merely black and white; the reasons for her actions were complex, multidimensional, strategic.

Chuck's hand, holding his phone, trembling in a white-knuckled grip, made Sarah believe Chuck struggled to find the same understanding.

Ciel shook herself out of her emotional daze, checking the clock on the wall, their time growing short.

"Squeeze my hand if the answer is 'yes,'" Ciel said as she took David's hand in hers, trying not to exhaust him further while hoping to extract the answers that they needed. Sarah knew they were risking the nurse's imminent reappearance.

"Did you contact Halmstad?" Sarah watched his hand clench. "In Zurich?" Another positive reply.

"Did he know where Marseille was?" No movement. Ciel looked over her shoulder at Chuck before asking another question.

"Did you meet with anyone else before the accident?" Sarah saw Ciel's hand fold, David's grip was so tight.

"Vienna." A wet whisper against the mask.

Sarah was startled by the word. Perhaps a city, as she had first believed, but perhaps also a person. A member of the network.

Ciel released his hand as he wheezed. "I can't tire him anymore, I'm sorry," she whispered. Sarah put her hand on the doctor's shoulder, a gentle pat and a comforting squeeze, hiding her anxiety.

"We should go, Ciel," Sarah said softly.

Ciel nodded in understanding, bending her body forward to kiss his cheek, her hand on his forehead. Sarah heard her whisper, "Je t'aime."

The trio was out of the elevator, on the first floor of the hospital, when they finally breathed easier. At least that was what Sarah thought--until she sensed Chuck's dismay.

His rage, already displayed when she saw him holding his phone, now surfaced fully, vibrating his entire body. His hands shook, tightly clenched fists ready to punch the corridor wall. Sarah lingered behind him, close but not smothering, hoping to offer support. Sarah whispered his name as she watched him lean hard against the wall and then slide down, crouching close to the floor.

Through gritted teeth, Chuck hissed, "My mother…knew you were alive. She let me… grieve…shatter…for…weeks! How could she do that to me? How much does she hate me?"

Sarah crouched beside him, feeling Ciel observing them both silently. Sarah touched his arm, holding it with both of her hands, feeling his muscles tensed. "Chuck, I never saw her. I never spoke to her. She didn't know I had amnesia…that I would wake up and not know that I needed to contact you."

"But she knew you were alive! Damn it, she talked to Ellie right before the memorial service…and she said nothing. She let me go to your funeral, believing it!" he cried, his face flushed with outrage.

"Chuck, I don't remember everything, but you know…I seem to recall nothing ever being clear-cut when it came to your mother. I don't believe she would have kept that from you unless she had a good reason for staying quiet. She's your mother."

"How could there be a good enough reason for that, Sarah?" Chuck's face was infinitely bitter.

Feeling his pain gouging its way through the center of her, Sarah knew he was right. There was no defending Mary's actions.

But then he faced Sarah. "Wait, you remember her?" Chuck asked, his eyes dark.

"I have a…sense of her," Sarah admitted. When she thought of Mary, it was like a shadow passing over her heart.

Chuck scoffed bitterly. "That's all I have, if I have that much…and she's my mother!"

Sarah rested her head on his shoulder, the muscle tensed like a stone under her cheek. Her emotions were unbalanced, wanting to offer him comfort while at the same time fighting her own outrage. She recalled how he had appeared when she had awoken after fainting, a shell of himself…and then thought of her own child. There was nothing she could say to ease his pain.

How could a mother so coldly disregard her child's feelings?

Sarah knew Chuck's mother was a spy. The connotations in Sarah's head were all negative, bits and pieces from her own memory all part of the same fresco. Sarah herself had been a spy. Ciel had questioned the stray memories of a baby and a husband at first because she was a spy. Those two lifestyles contradicted each other.

Love. But spies don't fall in love. Or get married. Or pregnant. But she had.

In no world could a person be both a good spy and a good parent. It was a choice. Though she didn't remember crisply, Sarah had chosen to be a wife and a parent. Mary had made a different choice, out of necessity perhaps, but a choice that had alienated her children from her. And apparently, Mary was still doing it.

Sarah looked for the positive, however minute, fully aware that she had learned to think that way from him. "Chuck, I can't imagine what you've been through. But your mother did rescue me from Japan. She saved me and our daughter from Quinn. I wouldn't be here right now if it weren't for her."

She felt him lean his head against hers in silent gratitude, though if it was for her words, or her mere presence, Sarah wasn't sure. It didn't matter; feeling him close to her was a balm. And when she was close, she only wanted to be closer. She loved him. She marveled at the need to tell herself that. The emotion was there, outsized and overwhelming and intense, her thoughts only supplying the name for what she felt.

The feelings had stirred as she watched Ciel with David.

Something David had said suddenly registered. City…operative.

As if reading her mind, Chuck asked, "Didn't David say he contacted an operative, code-named Vienna?"

Sarah looked at him, his words clicking. "He said the baby was in Vienna."

Sarah watched Chuck's eyes widen in understanding. "Not in Vienna. With Vienna." Chuck pressed his lips together in thought. "Could she be the woman you remember…the one who told you to inject yourself?"

Sarah pushed the horror of the memory away, turning her face to the wall for a moment. "I…I don't know. She didn't say anything to identify herself…but I…I don't think she realized I didn't know who she was. She spoke as if I was familiar with her. I was so weak, drifting in and out…I…" Sarah shook her head.

"It's alright," Chuck soothed her, running the back of his finger along her jaw.

Sarah could see Chuck thinking, as if the cogs in his brain were visible through the windows of his eyes.

"Ciel, have you ever met Halmstad?" Chuck asked her, his eyes narrowed as he looked up at her from his crouched position.

"Yes, I have. He found me after I left France. Besides David, he was the only one in the network I knew."

"What is his real name?"

Sarah felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up, a strange shiver creeping along her spine. Chuck thought he knew Halmstad?

"Hammersmith. Hugh Hammersmith. The 'H' is for Hugh. He's British," Ciel added, her eyes narrowing as well.

Chuck's expression became intense; he could hardly contain himself, his mind racing almost faster than he could speak. "Sarah, you said the nurse was British." Sarah nodded. "Red hair, green eyes, young, maybe 25 or 26?"

Sarah swallowed hard. "It was…dark…but…possibly?" Sarah looked at him. "Why, Chuck? Who is she?"

Sarah was sure Chuck was searching for the right words to say, as if blurting out the whole truth was too much. He was being cautious, judicious with his words. The fact that she knew that, by just watching his face, the way he moved his lips before he spoke, gave her comfort, each moment he felt less foreign to her, less unknown.

"I'm not sure, but I think…she could be his daughter. Hammersmith's daughter."

"Chuck, you know who he is?" Ciel asked in amazement.

The pause while he searched for more words was significant. He knew, but was keeping the full truth from Ciel. "I'm not sure. I think I knew him when he had a different name. But…there are too many coincidences for me to not even consider the idea that it could be the man I knew." Sarah saw the minute look, so subtle Ciel couldn't see, that told her he would tell her more once they were alone.

Ciel had watched it all transpire, but her urgency reasserted itself. "I'm sorry for all this. But David isn't safe here. Quinn tried to kill him for a reason…and once he knows he failed…he'll come back and finish the job. Despite the rules, the nurses seem to just let anyone who asks in." The doctor crossed her arms tightly across her body.

"Is there someone in your network who you can contact, to help keep him safe?" Sarah asked as she stood, pulling Chuck to his feet with her.

"I would ask Halmstad, but Rome said he's gone silent, and why, he didn't know. David said he talked to him. He's the only other person I can contact directly."

"What about Blaser?" Chuck asked. "Rome, as you called him."

"I had never seen him before he brought you to me," Ciel explained. "But he told me he would try to find David when he left that night, after you were shot."

"Sarah found David first…by accident. How likely is it that Blaser had no idea where he was?" Chuck asked.

"He never checked back with me," Ciel said.

"If he knew what happened, he may have been trying to keep you safe," Sarah explained.

"We'll have to go there in person. He doesn't conduct business over the phone. Ciel, stay here, near the ICU, and wait for us. The farther out in plain sight you are, the safer it is." She nodded at Chuck, turning to move back in the direction they had just come from.

"We should be back in an hour." Chuck wanted to give her further instructions, what he thought she should do if they were delayed, or perhaps, never, returned. He didn't have an alternative for the doctor, only that she stay in a public place. The hospital was as good a place as any.

"Come on," he said to Sarah. She took his hand without thinking about it. She had surprised him, Sarah saw, as he stared several beats too long at their joined hands before continuing.

Chuck released her hand to walk through the door onto the street. He was outside, Sarah right behind him but on the other side of the door, when Sarah saw someone approach from the right, a gun pointed at him.

"You're a hard man to find, Bartowski," Sarah heard, as the man took one step closer. His grumble was familiar.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

"Casey–"

"Don't say anything. Raise your hands where I can see them," Casey ordered.

Chuck had almost forgotten that his friends were in pursuit until Casey's voice reset his memory. Chuck had done as much as he could to mask his trail, staying at least a few days ahead of them. Being shot had kept him in one place and away from the computer long enough that he lost his edge.

"Damn it, Casey–"

Without warning, Chuck heard the door behind him crash, pushed out forcefully into Casey where he stood, knocking him back against the wall, his firearm flying loose and landing on the sidewalk. As Chuck turned he saw Sarah, her long brown hair flying as she grappled with Casey.

"Sarah, stop!" Chuck shouted, afraid she would harm Casey, not remembering who he was.

It was fortunate that Sarah listened immediately, for hearing Sarah's name had so disrupted Casey's concentration he stopped fighting her altogether.

Before Chuck could say anything else, he saw Casey stagger, bewildered, his eyes wide and unblinking, mouth agape.

"Sarah?"

That was Morgan's voice, shrill, from farther away. Casey was still mute.

Chuck hadn't realized his eyes had filled with tears until his vision blurred. He watched, overcome with emotion, as John Casey pulled Sarah into a bear hug, lifting her feet from the ground. Sarah's confusion was apparent as Chuck saw her face, her arms pinned limply at her sides.

"Sarah…oh, thank god," Casey murmured.

Morgan's hand on Chuck's back pulled him to the moment again. Morgan's hand was pressed over his mouth, stroking his beard, his eyes a telltale pink.

"Sarah, this is John Casey," Chuck said firmly, for everyone's ears. "And this," he spun to his side, "is Morgan Grimes."

Chuck's words registered. Casey pulled back, holding Sarah by her shoulders as he searched her face anew. Chuck started to explain.

"The Intersect…and whatever Quinn did to her…completely wiped her memory clean."

"Some of it's come back," Sarah said. "You and Morgan…I know I've seen you before. I just…"

The urgency of the situation reasserted itself. "Are you arresting me?" Chuck challenged.

"It's what Beckman sent us to do," Casey said, each word deliberate.

"Yes or no, Casey?" Chuck barked.

Casey looked uncertain, torn between duty and friendship. He deliberated in silence.

"Casey, listen to me," Chuck said, his words blending in his haste. "Our…daughter…is missing." His voice broke, the word spoken aloud suddenly making it real, slicing into his heart. He saw the tears on Sarah's cheeks.

"We know," Casey said softly, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

Chuck blanched. "Wait. What do you mean you know?"

"Beckman sent us to retrieve you. After the initial forensic investigation, she knew Sarah had a baby in captivity. And that you were the child's father. Ellie gave them a DNA sample. We've been trying to get in touch with you ever since."

He already trusted Sarah's certainty, but the irrefutable proof stole his breath.

Their daughter. His flesh and blood.

"Will you help us?" Chuck pleaded, relying on the bond of friendship. The one solidified when Casey had trusted Chuck to protect people he cared about.

Casey put his gun away. "Yes. You have my word."

For Chuck, that was all he required. He breathed a sigh of relief.

{}{}{}{}{}{}

Back inside the lobby of the hospital, Chuck pulled the group more tightly together. "I know everyone has a million questions. We need a debrief. But before we do, we have an urgent problem on our hands. There's a man in the ICU upstairs because Quinn tried to kill him. His life is in extreme danger and he's vulnerable here. The woman up there with him is a doctor who saved both Sarah and me…and Quinn is after her. We need to get her out of here, but we can't leave him without protection."

"Gertrude had some intel, something about a Samaritan network. Are these people part of that?" Casey asked.

"Yes," Chuck said in a clipped voice as they walked. "And as crazy as it sounds, I think Hartley Winterbottom is in charge of that network. Although he goes by Hugh Hammersmith now." He took a deep breath. "Casey, my mother rescued Sarah in Japan."

Just saying the words threatened his equilibrium again, so tenuous in his indignant outrage. Nine months of agonizing, futile searching…the morbid description of the blood-soaked room…his slow descent into hell and the forfeiture of his soul…What explanation could she give, what could she rationalize away?

Everything had been about protecting him, hadn't it? What a fucking fantastic job she'd done protecting him now. And the more he learned, the more people seemed to know before him. What warped sense of logic had been at work all this time?

Shaking himself, he thought to add that Vivan Volkoff had taken the baby, but was afraid of what saying her name would do to Sarah, if it jogged unpleasant memories. There was a wide gap between the Vivian who had almost killed Sarah and the one who had saved his daughter. He could see the path, but with Sarah's memory gaps, he wasn't certain she would understand.

Casey muttered, "Holy hell." Grumbling, he added, "Why she didn't tell anyone is anyone's guess."

"My mother is missing. Hartley's out of communication. And right now, they have almost all the answers."

What if my mother is dead?

He sickened with self-loathing, ashamed at first, that he didn't care. He couldn't look at Sarah, afraid somehow that she could almost read his mind. She had partial memories of him, rogue emotions that she didn't understand.

The man she remembers…is he still here, inside me? He was terrified when he realized, he wasn't sure any longer.

"Grimes and I talked to the luthier. He's part of it too," Casey replied. Casey shook Chuck from his speculative reverie.

"He's the only one I know I can trust," Chuck said. I can't even trust myself.

"He was at the shop. We just came from there. I can go back," Morgan offered. "Casey's due for a check-in with Beckman soon."

"Thanks, Morgan." Chuck smiled, distracted. "Make sure you tell him, very specifically, that Dresden is injured and needs a guard until we can reach Halmstad."

"And he'll know what that means?" Morgan asked doubtfully.

"Yes. Just tell him he's the only one who can protect Dresden." Morgan nodded, rising to depart.

"Come on, Casey. There's someone we'd like you to meet."

December 8, 2012

Washington, D.C

"What is it, Agnes?" General Beckman sighed into the communication device on her desk.

"I have confirmation, General. Dr. Woodcomb is in the air, ETA 20:00 hours. I've arranged transportation from the airport as well as her appropriate clearance. Is there anything else, General?"

Beckman's assistant was the epitome of efficiency. "No, Agnes, that will be all."

If only Agnes could sleep for her, Beckman thought, she would be most helpful.

Although after her last intelligence briefing, Beckman thought she might never have a peaceful night's rest ever again.

Once more, she second-guessed her decision to relocate the piece of the key she had in her possession. As the months went on, and no trace of Sarah Bartowski was ever found, Beckman had become increasingly concerned that Nicholas Quinn would finally obtain a functional Intersect program. Hadn't Daniel Shaw as an Intersect been disastrous enough?

Someone as criminally insane as Nicholas Quinn, with access to all the government's intelligence, superior and comprehensive fighting skills, was apocalyptic for the U.S. At least the Ring had been trying to attain a New World Order, contradictory to everything she believed in. Quinn's goal was chaos, hateful revenge, and the ultimate disruption of national security.

She rubbed a hand over her eyes, pulling her bottle of whiskey from her desk drawer. Sleep would remain as elusive as Chuck Bartowski, she thought, as she thought of pouring the whiskey into a glass, but instead, took a deep breath and drank straight from the bottle.