A/N1: Fulcrum most certainly does not own Chuck. To be honest, it doesn't own much of anything anymore. Rubble, maybe.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Sunday, December 7, 2008; 2:34 PM PST
Stephen Bartowski sat at the dining room table in Chuck and Sarah's apartment staring at his computer and typing furiously. He was so totally engrossed that he was barely registering any of the activity around him. Molly tried to get his attention and, while he wasn't unkind to the child, he proved to be too frustrating for her to engage with him. Eventually, she wandered away and Emma put cartoons on the TV to keep the little one busy. Emma hated using it as the electronic babysitter, but Sarah and Chuck had begun to move around only a few minutes ago and she wanted to be free to make herself useful. She started the coffee.
Chuck and Sarah had worked themselves above and beyond, to the edge of total exhaustion, for the last couple of weeks and Emma wanted to give them a bit of tender loving care today. She'd heard that Rachel had dropped them all off a bit after 10 PM, lingering only long enough to make sure everyone was squared away. Stephen, Chuck and Sarah had all immediately gone to sleep. Stephen had woken a few hours ago and called Emma to come over with Molly. He seemed to know he'd be distracted when Chuck and Sarah finally woke. Emma had come happily, eager to help the young couple. She wasn't exactly privy to what they did for a living, but she understood enough to know it was of the utmost importance, stressful and dangerous. She remembered the second day she'd known Chuck when he'd called the President for the personal favor that led to one of the greatest joys of her life, Molly, her daughter.
Eventually, Chuck and Sarah came out of their bedroom. Still in their pajamas, they looked sleep tousled, but otherwise good and more relaxed than they had for weeks. As they came to their kitchen, Emma said, "Hey, guys. I'm happy to see you catching up on your sleep."
Sarah went to her mom and gave her a kiss on the cheek, "Hey, Mom. Happy to see you, but why are you here?"
"Stephen called me when he woke up. He explained that you were exhausted and could use more than an extra bit of sleep. He wanted me around for when you finally stirred," she explained. Sarah went past her to pour two cups of coffee, one for her soon-to-be husband.
"Thanks, Dad," said Sarah to the back of his head. Stephen made a 'hmmm' noise, but didn't look up.
Chuck put a hand on his dad's shoulder and said, "You ok?"
Barely looking away from his screen for a moment, he said, "Yeah. Thanks, Charles. All good."
Shaking his head at his dad, Chuck walked straight into the living room where Molly was watching cartoons on the TV. "Hey, Moll. Can I watch TV with you?"
Molly smiled at him and pointed to the screen, "Mater."
Chuck said, "Mater? Do you mean matter? It doesn't matter? It does matter?"
Molly shook her head and said, pointing again to the screen, "Mater." She emphasized the hard 'a' in the name.
"Oh," said Chuck. "Is that the car's name? Mater? He looks like a nice guy."
Molly nodded in agreement and snuggled into her uncle's side. She stuck a thumb into her mouth, only to have Chuck gently push it out, shaking his head to the little one. Only a few moments later, Sarah handed him a cup of coffee. She sat and snuggled into his other side.
Emma sent a text. Before Mater had done anything cool on TV, Emma opened the door to Casey.
He was fully dressed and seemingly wide awake. Ramrod straight and serious of mien, striding into the room like MacArthur coming ashore in the Philippines, he said, "Hi, Molly. Is this a nice story?"
Both Chuck and Sarah started to giggle at the dichotomy between the tough Marine Colonel and the gentle family man. Molly jumped off the couch and ran to Casey, wrapping her little arms around his legs. "Unc Case," she said. He picked her up and gave her a kiss on the cheek, letting her run back to the couch with Chuck and Sarah.
Chuck said, "How's Frankie?"
Casey turned to Emma and said, "Thanks for the heads up, Emma. About them getting out of bed, I mean. Can you take Moll for a few minutes and show her the water in the fountain? Got some stuff to talk about here. Sorry."
"No worries, Uncle Casey. Shout when the coast is clear." Emma bundled Molly outside to play at the fountain.
Everyone seemed to be ignoring Stephen, and vice versa.
"He's ok," said Casey. "In and out wound to the leg. Devon got him patched up. He'll need a bunch of PT for muscle stuff, but he should be fine."
"Thank God," said Sarah.
"Yeah. We got really lucky with your team. Could have worked out much worse. But also, thank good planning that had a top surgeon at the command post. When bad things happen it's Murphy's law. When things work out well, it's good fucking planning. This thing worked out as well as could be hoped for," said Casey.
"The Marines? They ok?" asked Chuck.
"Still inside, still working, but so far so good. As of an hour ago, the only injuries have been from moving around in a destroyed facility. One guy got a broken leg when something underfoot gave way. Cuts and scrapes from rubble. There have been a handful of gunfights, but they have been ridiculously one sided. No serious threats."
"How about the wounded Fulcrum people?" asked Chuck.
"How about them? No survivors, remember?" asked Casey.
Sarah looked at Chuck with concern, knowing his continued discomfort with the permanent nature of the solution they had orchestrated. "I know," said Chuck. "I was thinking about the Marines, though. They aren't like ... well, like us, I guess. They aren't used to ... terminations. They fight in combat. Are they ok?"
Casey looked at Chuck and didn't change expression in the slightest, but somehow conveyed his feelings. He'd been concerned that Chuck would be uncomfortable about the termination of the Fulcrum agents. Maybe so, but Chuck was also worried about the Marines having to kill the Fulcrum wounded. His genius had seen it and his empathy had extended to those young men. Once again, Casey found himself momentarily startled by both this man's perception and his goodness.
"Yeah, they're ok," agreed Casey. "I'm hearing it worked out well that we put our own people in each unit. That came in handy when events became somewhat more dicey. Zee, Fitz and Colt were able to deal with some of the more uncomfortable situations. Take care of things so the Marines wouldn't have to. Honestly, though, there wasn't as much of that as you'd think. Kevin's guys took care of the vast, vast majority of Fulcrum."
"Thank goodness the Marines didn't have to face that," said Chuck.
"True," agreed Casey.
"How far along are they? How much of Blackrock is inaccessible?" asked Chuck.
"It's an educated guess, but I'd say two-thirds of the way through. Of course, as we keep going, it gets harder and harder. The last ten or twenty percent may never see the light of day. Soon enough, it will make no sense to have the Marines and our people there at all."
"We have to think about what to do then," said Sarah.
"Yeah," agreed Chuck. "There may be survivors down there in pockets or something."
Casey said, "Doesn't make sense to save them just to terminate them." He shrugged.
"So, we wait for them to die before we...what?" asked Sarah.
"Pretty horrifying way to die," grimaced Chuck.
"Truly," said Sarah, looking uncomfortable herself. "What do we do next?"
"Not our call," said Casey. "Questions like that get answered above our pay grade."
With a sour face, Chuck agreed, "Yeah. Guess so. What story has been given about the explosions?"
"Naturally occurring methane. They have some dude from the US Geologic Survey on TV explaining how it's possible. The usual lunatics are calling it a government coverup of a domestic bombing, but most of the sane voices are drowning them out."
Chuck laughed quietly and said, "Of course, in this case the loonies are right."
"Disturbing to understand that, huh?" said Casey with a wry expression.
"When do we pull the Marines out?" asked Sarah.
"I was just on a conference with Kona about an hour ago. We figure in the next couple of hours they will have cleared everything that can be cleared without heavy equipment to move the rubble. So, soon."
Sarah said, "We going to have a tough time marking people off the Fulcrum roster?"
"Oh, yeah. Might not even be possible for many, sorry to say. DNA testing for them is my guess. Things were a mess down there, as you'd expect. Maybe we'll find some wallets or something, but knowing the guys we're after I won't be satisfied until I see a body and then it's confirmed by multiple DNA tests. Spies are slippery people," said Casey.
"So, we do the best we can," said Chuck.
"Like always," said Casey.
"What does the President say?" asked Sarah.
"Dunno," said Casey. "He hasn't spoken to Carmichael in like seventeen hours. Seems he's not doing anything until you wake up." Casey had a pretty good smirk going when he said that.
Chuck said, "Oh shit. The President is waiting for me to wake up? Oh, shit." Chuck started to move around on the couch preparatory to getting up.
Casey started to laugh, "Chill out, kid. Believe it or not, I'd be surprised if the US government shuts down because you needed a nap."
Laughing at himself, "It doesn't? What the hell? Casey, how can they operate without me? There's no telling what might happen. Mayhem! Cats and dogs sleeping together."
"So, you're awake. Call your bestie. Or at least wait til your second cup of coffee."
Chuck looked at his empty coffee cup and said, "Yeah. Another cup of coffee. Sweetie?" He looked at Sarah. She shook her head with a smile. Standing up he said, "Case?"
"Naw, kid. Don't want to slow you down to talk to the President."
On his way to the kitchen, Chuck stuck his head outside and invited Emma and Molly back in.
Second cup of coffee in hand, and from the privacy of his bedroom, Chuck called the President.
"Good afternoon, Sir," he said when the President answered his private line.
"Afternoon, Chuck. Sleep well?"
"Yes, Sir. Thank you for pushing me. I guess I didn't realize just how exhausted I was."
"You were running on adrenaline. When the crash came it would have been epic. I didn't want you around sharp objects when that happened, Son," said the older man, chuckling.
"I just talked to the Colonel. The Marines should be done within the next hour or two. Some small gunfights, but none of the good guys hurt. A broken leg from shifting debris, but that's about it."
"Thank God," he said.
"Yes, Sir," agreed Chuck.
"Fulcrum head count?" the President asked. "We have a handle on that?"
"Can't say. Maybe we'll never know for sure. Even they didn't have a good count themselves and after the bombings many of the bodies aren't ... well..."
"Identifiable?" asked the President.
"Yes, Sir. Many with DNA analysis, but probably not otherwise," said Chuck. "As to the intact bodies, well, identification of the Fulcrum dead wasn't a priority until we knew what the story was below ground. Once we know everything is pacified, we can look to that. There are hundreds of bodies down there."
"Understood," sighed the President. "Problem for the next administration, I guess. If the next one wants to put in the effort. Personally, I'd just pour in tons of concrete and pave the place over, but that's going to be up to them."
"Even if there's anyone left alive down there?" asked Chuck.
"Yeah. Sucks for them, huh? What about Roark?"
"Don't know, Sir. He was there, so we are assuming he's one of the bodies, but, as I said, identification efforts haven't begun."
"Ok," said the President. "We'll wait. In the meantime, the sharks are ripping his businesses to pieces. Our own law enforcement guys are hitting them as hard as possible and Roark's lawyers are flailing, but Wall Street is showing much less mercy. I think he'll be out of business before the new year."
"Yes, Sir. Couldn't happen to a nicer guy."
Bush started to laugh. "You're right about that one. For the rest of those assholes, any of them who weren't at Blackrock, we will be hunting them for years to come. They can run and hide for a while, but we won't forget and we won't stop. Whack a mole whenever they stick their heads up."
"Yes, Sir. I agree that we ought to be vigilant about them resurfacing."
"We will. And I feel comfortable leaving it in your hands. Chuck, I want to thank you and your people for what you've done for us. For the entire country. I'm going to come out to California and thank you in person, but just for today, I want to thank you and the rest of your team."
"Our pleasure, Sir. We are very happy to help," said Chuck.
"Chuck, there are some times in the history of the nation when circumstances bring to rise great men and women. I think this is one of those times, Son."
"Sir, I am honored by what I think you are implying, but I beg you to remember what Admiral Halsey told us. 'There are no great men. There are only great challenges which ordinary men are forced by circumstances to meet.' I can only hope that my friends and I have managed to meet the challenges Fulcrum put before us. With your leadership, of course, Sir."
Bush began to chuckle quietly. "Thanks, Chuck. I think backing you and your team was the best decision my administration took. Christ knows some of the other decisions might be more...controversial as time goes on."
"I couldn't speak to that, Sir."
Bush laughed and said, "Very diplomatic, Chuck."
"I got a lane, Mr. President. I'm cautious enough to stay in my lane."
Still laughing, Bush said, "You might have a future in Washington if you keep up with the way you handle me."
"God forbid, Sir. Not in my plans. I'm a West Coast guy. I couldn't deal with your humid summers."
"Why I go to Maine."
"And who can blame you, Sir?"
"Ok, Chuck. I have some other things to get to. Thanks for filling me in. Let me know if anything happens, otherwise, I'll talk to you tomorrow."
"Yes, Sir. Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Chuck."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
A/N2: Much calmer this week. Everyone is just recovering from the violence last week and the weeks long lead up to the climax. The big Fulcrum fight has concluded. But the clean up will continue for a long time to come.
A/N3: It's the reviews I get from you guys that convince me I'm not screaming into the void. Please help.