A/N: This has been a whopper of a delay, and I apologize. Life got crazy and has been for a while. This has 4 more chapters and an epilogue. I'm hoping to wrap this up by the beginning of July, as there is a new story chomping at the bit inside my head. A huge thanks to nevr for pre-reading this chapter!
Oh, here you are
There's nothing left to say
You're not supposed to be that way
Did they push you out?
Did they throw you away?
Touch me now and I don't care
When you take me I'm not there
Almost human, but I'll never be the same
"Long Way Down"
Goo Goo Dolls
December 9, 2012
Montreux, Switzerland
Chuck's gaze shifted from Ciel to Hammersmith, and back. They seemed to be in détente, at least for now, but tension still lingered, as well as something more profound beneath Ciel's forced calm.
"Of course we'll help you," Chuck answered for everyone, cautiously examining Ciel's visage as the words were spoken. Her face was stern, her jaw set, but he took her silence as acceptance.
Hammersmith smiled sadly. "Thank you, Charles," he said softly. "You're a good man. Your father would be very proud."
Emotion surged from the center of Chuck at Hammersmith's kind words. Would you still be, Dad? After everything?
Stephen Bartowski had preferred to hide, to run, than to confront the demons endlessly chasing him. Once Chuck had been angered by that, feeling abandoned while his father hid himself away. The one time Chuck had encouraged Stephen to turn and fight had cost Stephen his life. It had taken Chuck a long time before he stopped feeling culpable in his father's death, before he stopped entertaining those thoughts that perhaps his father had blamed him in his last few moments of life.
You're special, son. No, he argued with himself, with his last breath, Stephen praised him, honored him and his choice.
Was Stephen just one more person Chuck had let down? Would Stephen have condoned Chuck's current behavior? He couldn't answer his rhetorical question, bile rising in his throat as he struggled with his shame.
Unable to disguise his emotions, Chuck added passionately, "Sarah…and our daughter…would have died if you hadn't intervened."
Hammersmith remained still, wearing a grim mask. Chuck felt a strange connection, a deeper understanding than he had known before. Hammersmith wanted no praise, no gratitude for anything, always in the act of atonement that would never be complete.
Hartley Winterbottom, the man Hammersmith had been, the man who had conquered his fear to help Chuck save Sarah on the eve of their wedding, was in no way responsible for the atrocities committed by his alter ego, Alexei Volkoff. He had been just as much a victim as the innocents harmed by him, losing years of his life, forgetting the mother of his child. And yet, he gave what time he had remaining to help others.
"He would have been proud of you," Chuck felt the need to say. Hammersmith replied with a stiff, appreciatory smile.
Noise on Ciel's front step, rustling and muffled voices, interrupted the silence. Everyone in the room spun towards the door at the sound. Ciel stood and moved quickly to stand at the threshold. A soft knock was audible.
"Boule de poils." The masculine voice on the other side of the door was familiar.
"Boo…de…pull…" The other masculine voice, butchering the French pronunciation, was equally familiar, both in tone, and this time, in tendency.
"It's hairball in French, moron."
"Hairball? What kind of code word is hairball?"
Ciel opened the door to reveal Casey and Morgan arguing on the doorstep.
"I'm a veterinarian," Ciel sighed in frustration as she motioned the men to enter her home. The tiny sitting room became crowded as they filed in and Ciel shut the door.
Without preamble, Casey stated, "We're due to touch base with Beckman. I wanted us all to be in the same room when we do."
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Sarah had almost conjured Beckman's face from her impressions alone, the general's appearance only seeming to confirm her imaginings. Why Beckman's face was so easily imagined, and not her husband's, Sarah could only refer to how Ciel had explained things. Sarah was a spy, or at least she had been, longer than she had been anything else, and consequently, memories from her spy life were simply more available. It still saddened her that this was so, now that she knew how much more important her life with her husband had been than anything she had ever lived as a spy.
Chuck had advised Hammersmith to stay off camera. The older man had quickly agreed without argument. No further explanation was given, but Sarah understood the general purpose. Hammersmith was living a new life, the product of a blank identity, to protect him from his past, his criminal past as Alexei Volkoff. All the good Hammersmith was achieving was in danger if Beckman was made aware of who and where he was.
Sarah's recognition was disrupted by something she felt was off, strange. Beckman was a tiny red-head, with clear, spring green eyes. She was proper, stern, and the epitome of military professionalism. But the moment Casey had spoken, explaining that Sarah was alive moments before Sarah and Chuck appeared on the feed from the computer's screen, Sarah had seen something unfamiliar. Tears in Beckman's eyes.
Beckman hid her emotions efficiently, the slip only visible for a moment, but even the brief display was significant. "It's…very good to see you, Sarah." Another shift in Beckman's expression occurred as she looked at Chuck, only this time, she almost winced before she controlled that as well. "Chuck."
Not Bartowski, Sarah thought. She remembered Beckman's voice, but almost never calling her husband by his given name. Beckman must have seen the same torment, how different he appeared now compared to the past. Sarah had worried some of that sense of disparity was caused by her memory loss, and it seemed Beckman had thought the same thing.
From everything Chuck had explained during the initial car ride, Sarah was awaiting at the very least a verbal reprimand of Chuck from the general, considering his antics upon hacking into the DNI had initiated the manhunt that had eventually brought Casey and Morgan to Switzerland. To her amazement, Beckman completely ignored any mention of Chuck's transgressions. Instead, she listened carefully as Casey gave his full report, updating their status. Strategically, Casey left out Halmstad's true identity. If the general knew or suspected, she gave no outward sign, at least initially.
When Casey was done speaking, Beckman's eyes shifted away from the camera, gazing to the left of the screen. She murmured something inaudible, then turned back to face the camera. "There's someone here who needs to speak with you all."
Beckman shifted, sliding her desk chair to her left, making room for another chair behind her desk. Sarah watched the blurry motion, long dark hair and flailing limbs as the other person rushed to get settled in front of the camera. Ellie…this is Ellie.
The knowledge just seemed to appear, soon verified as the woman turned her face to the camera, her green eyes fixating on the view. Sarah recognized her immediately, her resemblance to her husband only fortifying her identity.
"Oh, Sarah," Ellie gasped, pressing her hand against the lens of the camera, as if she could close the distance and touch her. Ellie openly wept. Beckman was extraordinarily patient with the outburst. Sarah's attention was focused on the screen, but she heard Chuck's breath, a soft sob as he buried his face in her hair, nestling beside her. She grabbed his hand, squeezing as her eyes burned with unshed tears.
Sarah watched her sister-in-law visibly pull herself together, sucking in her breath and wiping her cheeks vigorously with both palms. "I'm sorry, General," Ellie murmured.
"It's alright." Beckman's calm, patient, sympathetic voice was aberrant in Sarah's memory. She paused, waiting for the heightened emotions to settle before she continued.
"Now that we're up to speed, we have quite a bit of information to relay as well." Beckman folded her hands on her desktop. "First, your intel concerning the key components is correct. There are three total pieces, and currently, two of those three are believed to be in possession of Nicholas Quinn, along with a fully functional, yet defective, version of the Intersect."
"Do you have the third piece, General?" Chuck asked.
"Not any longer," Beckman said with a single shake of her head. "I passed it to a reliable source to hide. It was safer for everyone involved."
Sarah had a hazy picture of a tall man with white hair, different from Blaser, but someone she had known. She told herself to not be too hopeful about the recall, but she couldn't help to feel encouraged. At first, all faces had been blank in her memory, but as more time went on and more was revealed, she had impressions of faces and voices not previously present.
"We had a sighting of Quinn in Nuremberg less than 36 hours ago. Our agents followed up as quickly as possible, but our lead went cold. We have every available agent searching as we speak."
"Why Germany, General?" Sarah asked. "Do we know what he's looking for?"
Ellie leaned closer to the camera. "He's looking for your daughter."
Sarah felt Chuck's arms tighten around her. The complications of revealing Vivian Volkoff's identity to Beckman kept Sarah silent, though she looked cautiously to Chuck for guidance.
Beckman's next words ended the internal debate. "We know it was Vivian Volkoff who helped Mary Bartowski rescue Sarah and the baby, and that Vivian took custody of the child. We don't have specific information, only that the child is safe and no longer in Vivian's custody. However, Quinn knows this as well. He knows the only way to find your daughter is to find Vivian."
"But why?" Chuck interjected loudly. "She's a helpless infant. What does he want with our daughter?"
"It's her brain, Chuck," Ellie said, her voice wavering. "All of the data that the analysts pulled from the computers in the base were Intersect related. Quinn was able to transcribe the entire program backwards from Sarah's Intersect, but it was defective, the same as the one Morgan downloaded. He was able to monitor the baby's brain waves while she was in utero…and it seems like he compared them to Sarah's. He believed that the baby had a genetic mutation, most likely inherited from you, Chuck."
Beckman continued. "Your sister was able to confirm, quite definitively, what we had believed for some time. The altered Intersect, the defective version, was downloaded by Morgan Grimes by accident. It was meant for Chuck. In a brain with the specific mutation that Dr. Woodcomb was able to isolate, a mutation we believe both Chuck and the baby possess, the defective version becomes functional, awaiting modification with the key."
Chuck sat up straighter, his muscles tensing. "Wait a minute. What does that mean? What was Decker's plan?"
Beckman sighed, grumbling softly before she continued. "Decker's authorization to remove Volkoff from River Hill was…suspect at best. He knew Agent X was the only person left alive who knew about the key. He was in the process of beginning to assemble the key when you…removed Volkoff from his custody. He sent you that Intersect with the hope that you would download it, Chuck. From what your sister was able to determine, had you downloaded that version, it would have left you…programmable, I guess is the best word. His hopes were that your identity would have eroded enough by the time he was able to acquire all the pieces that he could then have gained complete control of you."
Chuck had paled, but he nodded along, understanding. "Why the baby? I still don't understand."
"Chuck, Quinn knew he needed to modify the defective version for his own use. He has the means to modify it with the complete key. The modifications themselves have to come from somewhere, a perfect model, so to speak. Your daughter's genetic mutation would create a template that could be copied, transcribed from electrical stimulation."
Chuck growled angrily, clenching his fists before he spoke. "He left Sarah alone, bound to a table with a lethal dose of cyanide strapped to her arm if she moved, while she was in labor. He left her to die. And yet he kept her alive because of the baby, and it sounds like what you are talking about. It doesn't make sense."
Beckman's eyes glinted, her jaw stiff with controlled wrath. "A lot of data was lost, intentionally self-destructed it appears, but we found fragments. We know they were waiting for Sarah to reach 36 weeks gestation. They were prepared to…remove…" Beckman shuddered on the word, like it tasted bitter on the way out, "the baby. Mary and Vivian interrupted. We aren't sure what all of the plans were, but they were definitely disrupted."
"We have to find Vivian, General," Sarah added as she saw Chuck struggling to maintain his composure, unable to say anything further.
"I concur." Beckman sat up straighter. "I reinstated Casey and Grimes for the NSA and now I'm changing their mission. I can't legally ask either of you to do anything, but I know your paramount concern is finding your daughter. That is your primary goal, and I believe the only way to start is to find Vivian Volkoff before Quinn does. We believe Vivian is in Nuremberg, where Quinn was spotted. You have all the resources of the NSA at your disposal to do so." She lifted her chin with determination. "Good luck, team."
"Nuremberg is a five hour flight," Ciel said once the computer was turned off.
"I'll get the flight situated," Casey said.
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Casey had moved to the back bedroom to use the computer in private. Sarah left Chuck with the rest of the group, following Casey into the room. She slowly snuck away, not wanting to attract attention to herself. She wanted to talk to Casey in private.
Sarah's feelings were still scattered, disconnected, and jumbled, but something deep inside her felt a connection to Casey. The spy in her recalled the NSA agent, John Casey, in a different place than she had memories of John Casey, her friend. They were partners first, and then friends, and then family. That was the feeling that remained. It was true for her, and it was true for Chuck. That was why she wanted to talk to him.
"Casey?" Sarah asked quietly as she stood in the doorway. Casey looked up from the computer, an unfamiliar gentleness on his face. "Can I talk to you for a second?" He motioned for her to come closer.
Sarah sat beside him on the bed, searching for the way to start, when Casey surprised her. She watched his jaw tremble slightly before he gritted his teeth. Looking away, he said, "I'm sorry, Sarah."
"What? Why? I don't understand…"
"I don't know if you remember it, but…Quinn got away from us because he was able to use my daughter as leverage. He forced me to hold you and Chuck at gunpoint or he was going to kill her, but–"
"Casey, stop," Sarah said sharply, wrapping a hand around his wrist. "This…wasn't your fault."
He pressed his eyes closed hard, flinching. "Chuck told me that…Chuck believes that." Through gritted teeth he continued, "But I saw that room. Knowing what you went through, for months, having to fight for your life while you were bleeding to death…"
She was in the same room, blinking lights on the bank of computers the only illumination in the dark…her legs were slick with blood, hot and sticky…her feet sloshed through the puddles of blood accumulating as she continued to bleed…the bindings on her wrists and ankles had been intentionally loosened while she slept, and when she woke, she broke free…
She wasn't alone. Two men were there. Her strength was gone, ebbing as her life spilled onto the floor, but she punched, kicked, slashed at them with a hypodermic needle. The needle was the same one that had been strapped to her arm, full of deadly poison. She punched the nearest man, then plunged the needle into his chest as he lunged towards her again. He fell dead at her feet. She reached for the second man…and everything went dark…
"Sarah!" Casey had to shout to wake her from her reverie. She was suddenly back in Ciel's house, shaking and pale.
"Vivian…she untied me…after she delivered the baby. I killed one guard, but I…must have passed out and the second one tied me up again. Only, somehow, Vivian replaced the cyanide with a tranquilizer."
"Chuck said Parsons believed you were dead. He said that under truth serum. Is it possible she drugged you so they would think you died…like tetrodotoxin?"
Still collecting herself, Sarah added, "She told me to inject myself, to make it look like I'd been struggling. It's possible." She sat forward. "That's part of what I wanted to talk to you about. Chuck."
"What about Chuck?" Casey asked cautiously.
The urge to just spill everything out was intense, but a memory intruded, reminding her Casey hated emotional displays, that this situation was already more than what he was comfortable with. She tried to distance herself from the words she was speaking.
"I didn't remember what Chuck looked like…or any specific moments with him…but I remembered how I felt. I know how I feel. And something is wrong, Casey, so wrong. It's like there's a wall between us, and it's not just my memory."
"I don't–"
"He thought I was dead and he snapped. I get it, Casey. I look at these," she parted her hair to reveal the red, nickel-sized scars on her scalp, "and I remember feeling the same way, sometime in the past. Someone took Chuck and I went crazy, didn't I?" Casey nodded.
"You saved him, pulled him back from the point of no return, where the damage would have been permanent. But, yeah, you lost it, Walker."
"Why do I feel like I have to do that again?"
"What do you mean?"
Sarah closed her eyes, her heart aching. "He feels like he…let me down somehow. He may have believed what happened to me wasn't your fault, but…he thinks it's his."
Casey sighed, waiting. His pause was significant. "People react to grief in strange ways sometimes. Ellie was afraid, in the beginning, that he might hurt himself. Eventually, he found a reason to live…but it was vengeance. I don't blame him, Sarah. He's only human, even if he is the…best human I've ever known."
Sarah had the sense that, if she could remember everything, she could figure out what to do, what to say. Chuck's words from before, mixed with what Casey had said, painted a clearer picture.
Chuck believed he was no longer worthy of her. She lost her breath for a moment, overwhelmed.
Chuck, her husband. The father of her child. He would do anything for her, absolutely anything. He loved her, as she was, the killer who had plunged cyanide into the heart of a man with cold precision.
She recalled everything Chuck had chronicled when he thought she was dead. What he had done seemed mild compared to her own memories of her past. The one dead man, who had almost killed him, was an accident. Her husband wasn't a vicious killer, nor a cold-blooded killer. Chuck was driven by grief, a desolation she could only imagine. Not knowing if Chuck was dead had driven her to madness in the past.
If he had died in that jungle that she recalled with sickness…she knew the carnage she would have left in her wake with a chill certainty. Apparently, so did Chuck…but he loved her despite all of it.
She didn't know how to put all of that into words, but she knew she had to try. Chuck was still suffering despite their reunion. He was driven now, as she was, to find their daughter. They were strongest when they worked as a team. Every flash from the past told her this was true.
She had to let him know somehow. She needed her partner. She needed her husband.
