A/N: Hey, thanks again for so many lovely reviews. I value every opinion :)). This chapter is a little bit longer, as a lot happens. I hope I haven't scared anyone away yet with the continual angst. Please don't be discouraged. Trust me. There will be Charah. Sooner than you think.
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Chuck and Sarah, arm in arm, walked across the floor of the massive ballroom they were in. The ballroom was huge, with old-fashioned paintings of seemingly random themes and objects decorating the panelled walls. Four chandeliers, their candles burning fiercely, were hanging on for dear life from the marble ceiling. Wealthy party-goers and socialites were everywhere, dancing, drinking or simply making small talk. The hum of conversation nearly drowned out the classical piano being played in the background somewhere.
On the outside, Sarah Walker had a happy-looking smile plastered to her face as she walked next to Chuck. Sarah was trying to focus on the mission, identifying threats in the ballroom and mentally storing them away, avoiding looking or talking to him. She needed to make sure nothing went wrong because of her relationship problems - that is, if you can call a relationship that never really started one. Inside, she was still deeply hurting, and was subconsciously plotting to win Chuck back by any means necessary. She had to get him to take her back. She didn't see a way to keep on living if he didn't.
She revelled in the ever-so-slight body contact they were sharing at the moment, her arm comfortably running through his, his warm body making her tingle, something that she never experienced with anyone else.
Chuck, on the other hand, was trying very hard to not go insane. His primary focus was on looking for a distraction to get away from the crowd without being noticed, so they could find the FULCRUM office. The more human part of his brain, although severely strained just now, was trying to assess his feelings. Okay so, he had betrayed Sarah multiple times in the past, perhaps without meaning to. Sarah doing what she did felt so much worse, somehow.
Maybe it was because he had made it clear from the very start that he wanted their "under the undercover thing" to be real. He didn't know. Deep down he knew that he still loved her, no matter what. But he felt so crushed right now that he never really wanted to see her again. It was difficult to tell if he even had feelings anymore. That was how he felt - numb, that was the word to describe it.
'She looks as beautiful as ever,' he thought, discreetly looking at Sarah's face, and her flowing red dress, her long legs partially visible through a slit in the material. He matched her with his shiny black tuxedo.
'Boy did she do a good job at her make-up,' he mused, although he knew that Sarah did not need an ounce of make-up to look amazing. He shook his head. He had to stop thinking about this.
The piano music ended, and the ensemble, where seemingly two more guitars, a bass, and two violins joined in, started to play a slow-beat tango.
Sarah's breath hitched. The Latin dance music served to increase her desire for Chuck at this very moment, no matter how hard she tried to keep it down. She looked up at Chuck, searching his face with hope in her eyes. Chuck realized she was looking at him and glanced down at her expressionlessly.
"Two guards by the left wall, although not FULCRUM from what the Intersect can tell," he said, brightening his face and speaking with a happy tone of voice, even putting on a smile in order to appear like he was jolly and was having a great time talking to his dance partner in front of everyone else. Sarah could tell the smile was fake, and it hurt her. It definitely wasn't the crooked-nose Bartowski Special that he used to save only for her.
"We need to get across the dance floor," Sarah said quietly, still eyeing Chuck.
Chuck's face was blank.
"Do it, numb-nuts," came Casey's gruff voice over the intercom, slightly fuzzy.
"Fine," he conceded. He did not feel like dancing.
He took hold of Sarah's hand and waist, and began to lead. Sarah was extremely awestruck by this. The last time she was aware of him dancing the tango was when he only knew the female section of it, during the mission with La Ciudad. Now, it was amazing and, she had to admit, extremely hot how he slightly aggressivelly led her across the dance floor, without a moment's hesitation at each move. His eyes weren't focused on her, but on looking around for possible threats. Sarah, however, couldn't take her eyes off of his. They were liked chocolate pools that she could get happily drowned in.
The truth was, Chuck had significantly brushed up on his tango-ing since that day, in private. Ordinarily, he still probably would have made some mistakes, and would've hesitated at least a little bit, but in his current mood he felt confidence come out of nowhere. Maybe it was because he didn't think he could be embarassed in front of Sarah anymore. Maybe it didn't matter if he was.
Sarah realised that she could dance with Chuck at full pace, even slightly faster than the tempo of the music. He really was very skilled at this dance, pretty much matching her level, and it was TURNING. HER. ON. As the music was nearing its end, Chuck went for the dip, more to get a better line of sight behind Sarah's head than anything else.
He lowered her body, causing her to arch her back, still keeping a very firm hold on her. Sarah however, was getting so intensely aroused by that particular move that it took everything not to kiss him and do more than that to him right there. She looked at him with longing, and thought about how it would be infinitely more lovely if they were here on their own time, genuinely dancing together. Then she remembered that that would probably never, ever happen. Her lips quivered slightly at the thought.
As the music ended, Chuck and Sarah used the opportunity of everyone else being preoccupied with chatter to quickly slip away through the door at the far wall unnoticed. Once through, they immediately let go of each other, and stood back a metre apart - Sarah very unwillingly - and looked down the corridor in front of them.
They walked down the corridor, Sarah with her SW 5906 in her hand, and finally reached the door that they knew was of the office. Sarah kept her gun ready, and whispered: "Chuck, we really need to talk."
"Not now, Agent," Chuck said back robotically, dismissively and stepped back, allowing Sarah to kneel down and begin picking the lock.
Sarah felt a stab through her heart like a thousand knives. He hadn't referred to her as "Sarah" even once since earlier that day. As her pale, nimble hands worked quickly on the lock with her lockpicking set, she came to the sickening realisation that the last time he had ever called her by her name might be while they were in the middle of a fight. She hated that.
"Chuck, can we please talk?"
"Focus on the mission, Walker," Casey again said. In the van outside, Casey secretely did not like saying that one bit, and cringed inside. He knew that Sarah needed to fix things with Chuck immediately. He specifically told her to. But it was a really bad time right now.
"I am!" she hissed, knowing how amplified the sound would be through her earpiece. Casey was exponentially getting on her nerves. She finally heard a click and got the door to slide open with a slight creak.
Sarah aimed her handgun, tuning out everything else but the sounds and movement inside the room - of which there appeared to be none. She quickly pushed the door fully open, surveying the inside of the room. The only source of light was from the hallway, so she used her other hand to switch on the light while keeping her gun steady. She looked around the place. There were shelves full of boxes of stacked A4-size documents, there was a wooden antique desk also littered with paperwork of all kinds.
The carpet was neat and tidy, as was the small window - too small to fit through, she noted. A small fireplace was in the corner of the room. They both walked fully into the room. Sarah leaned closer to the sheets on the table. She couldn't make head or tail of it. It appeared to be some sort of encryption. Fortunately, Chuck also leaned over, and flashed. Chuck's face shook as it always did, then, he muttered: "Seems they're stockpiling all of their information on some sort of thermal weapon. There's not much information about it other than that. The woman in charge of the project is Marion Adams. Short, dark brown hair, she served for three years in the Army Rangers."
"Our orders are to get rid of it," Sarah replied, focusing on their task. She looked at the fireplace in the corner. "Help me light this up," she called.
Chuck got over to where she was and took charge. He placed a firestarting briquette into the fireplace, and lit it with a lighter he found on the mantlepiece above. Soon a rich flame was burning away the oil-soaked mass. They began throwing every shard of paper within the room into the fireplace. Whenever a new armful was thrown in, the flames would rise up, hungry for more. Chuck and Sarah soon developed a routine, walking between the shelves, desk and the fire, with Sarah periodically checking if they had any FULCRUM visitors.
They knocked the entire job out in less than ten minutes. Satisfied, they turned towards each other. Sarah was smiling, and it even seemed like the corners of Chuck's mouth turned up a little bit too. It felt good.
"Now can we talk?" asked Sarah slightly pleadingly.
Chuck was about to respond with "sure", but then a very clear image of her and Barker popped up in his mind, the pain it caused him almost visible, and his face hardened again, like granite. He spotted his mother's charm bracelet dangling off her forearm. Scowling, he stepped forward and yanked it off, careful not to snap it, though. Without a word, he placed it in his trouser pocket and turned away, speaking into his watch:
"All done here Casey." He walked out of the office, back towards the ballroom.
Sarah burst into tears. Unfathomable pain consumed her entire being, burning her alive. Her body trembled as the silence pressed in, deafening in its finality. She could still feel the warmth of Chuck's touch on her skin, the weight of his hand on her waist during the dance. But it was the cold, hard absence of his love that suffocated her now.
The charm bracelet.
It felt as though he had ripped her heart from her chest when he slid it from her wrist, his fingers gentle but the gesture violent in its meaning. That simple, thoughtful bracelet had been her lifeline - a reminder that Chuck saw her, not as an agent, but as Sarah, as someone worthy of love. But now it was gone, tucked away in his pocket as easily as if it had never mattered at all.
Her knees gave out beneath her, and she collapsed to the floor, her back against the wall. The sobs came without warning, her chest tightening as she struggled to breathe. Hot tears streamed down her face, unrelenting, as her body shook with the force of her grief. She tried to stifle them, tried to compose herself, but it was no use. Every bit of control she had, the composure she prided herself on as a CIA agent, crumbled in the face of this overwhelming heartache.
For so long, she had been able to compartmentalize her feelings. Sarah Walker—the spy, the assassin - knew how to suppress emotions, to tuck them away in neat little boxes so she could complete the mission. But right now, none of those defenses held. The boxes had burst open, and all the carefully buried emotions came rushing out in a torrent she could not control.
"I lost him," she whispered shakily, over and over, the words a knife to her soul. "I lost him and it's all my fault!"
Her hands clenched into fists, pressing against the floor as though grounding herself in the present moment might ease the pain. But it didn't. It only amplified the reality she could no longer escape. Chuck was gone, emotionally if not physically. He had shut her out completely, and she had no idea how to get him back.
Images of their time together flooded her mind - the way he used to look at her, like she was the most important person in the world. The soft teasing, the gentle smiles, the times when she felt like she could just be Sarah, not a government tool, not a weapon. She had never felt that with anyone else. Chuck was the one who had made her believe, even if only for a moment, that she could have a real life, a life filled with love and warmth.
And now that was gone. The ONE thing she had allowed herself to hope for, to dream of, had been ripped away, and the emptiness it left behind was unbearable.
She gasped for breath between sobs, her shoulders shaking violently. 'I was too late. I let him slip away. He thinks I don't care, that I never cared.' The weight of that thought crushed her, and she buried her face in her hands. She had never felt so powerless. She could disarm bombs, take down assassins, infiltrate high-security fortresses, but she couldn't reach the one person she loved most. She couldn't fix this.
In her mind, she replayed the moment Chuck had walked away, the coldness in his eyes when he called her "Agent Walker." It wasn't just a name - it was a wall. A wall she couldn't break through. Not anymore.
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Chuck's footsteps echoed in the quiet corridor as he walked away from the office, his hand still clenched tightly around the charm bracelet in his pocket he had just taken back from Sarah. His heart felt like it had been ripped out of his chest, but he pressed on, refusing to let himself think about what he had done. He was numb. All of it - the mission, the bracelet, Sarah - was just too much. He needed to put it all behind him.
But just as he reached the door, a sound stopped him cold.
It was soft at first, barely audible over the faint creaking of the floor beneath his feet. But it was unmistakable.
Sobbing.
Chuck froze, his hand resting on the door handle, his breath catching in his throat. He didn't turn around, but he didn't need to. He knew it was Sarah. Her quiet, broken sobs filled the room behind him, each one cutting through him like a knife.
He stood there, torn, his chest tightening with guilt and pain. Every instinct screamed at him to leave, to walk away and keep the walls he had built around himself. She had hurt him, hadn't she? He had every reason to be angry, every right to protect himself from more pain.
But hearing her cry - hearing SARAH cry - made it impossible to move.
Her sobs grew louder, the sound raw and unguarded. It was the sound of someone who had lost something precious. Someone who was hurting deeply. Chuck's mind flashed back to all the moments they'd shared, the times when Sarah had been his rock, his protector. She had saved his life more times than he could count, had been there for him through every crisis.
And now, she was breaking. Because of him.
His grip on the charm bracelet tightened, the cool metal digging into his palm as he stood there, paralyzed. His heart pounded in his chest, and for a moment, all the anger, all the bitterness, slipped away. All he could feel was the ache in his chest, the part of him that had always belonged to Sarah, no matter how hard he tried to deny it.
"I lost him," Sarah's voice trembled through the sobs, her words barely audible but carrying so much pain that Chuck winced as if he'd been struck. "I lost him, and it's all my fault."
Chuck's breath hitched. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to stay strong, to stay angry. But the sound of her crying was unbearable. It wasn't the Sarah Walker he knew—the deadly CIA agent who could disarm a room full of enemies without breaking a sweat. This was the real Sarah. The woman who had let him see behind the mask. The woman who was now falling apart because she thought she had lost him.
And wasn't that what he had always wanted? For Sarah to open up to him, to show him that she cared?
But now that she had, he felt more lost than ever. The walls he had built around himself, the coldness he had clung to, started to crumble. He could feel them giving way under the weight of her pain, her vulnerability.
And he couldn't bear it.
Slowly, almost unwillingly, Chuck turned back toward the room.
She was crumpled on the floor, her knees pulled to her chest, her hands covering her face as her body shook with sobs. She was trying to be quiet, trying to suppress the raw emotion that had taken over, but she couldn't.
Chuck felt his chest tighten again. He had never seen her like this - so broken, so fragile.
She was Sarah Walker, the woman who never cried, the woman who was always in control. But here she was, completely undone, and it was because of him.
For a long moment, Chuck just stood there, watching her. He wanted to say something, anything, but the words wouldn't come. His anger, his hurt, they were still there, but they were drowned out by something else now.
Something deeper.
Finally, he took a step forward. His footsteps were soft, but Sarah still heard them. She looked up, her tear-streaked face filled with shock and sorrow. Her blue eyes were red-rimmed, her cheeks flushed from crying. For a moment, they just stared at each other - Chuck standing in the doorway, Sarah sitting on the floor, both of them broken in their own way.
Chuck opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. What could he say? That he was sorry? That he didn't mean to hurt her? That he still loved her, even though he had tried so hard not to?
But before he could say anything, Sarah spoke first, her voice trembling, her lips quivering as she forced out the words.
"Chuck... please don't go," she whispered, her voice so small and fragile that it nearly broke him all over again. "I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I... I never meant for any of this to happen."
She looked up at him with such desperation, such raw vulnerability, that Chuck's heart twisted in his chest. He wanted to believe her, wanted to let go of all the anger and pain he had been holding onto. But the memory of her and Cole Barker, the kiss he had witnessed, still haunted him.
"Why, Sarah?" he asked quietly, his voice filled with the hurt he had been trying to bury. "Why did you kiss him?"
Sarah's eyes widened, fresh tears spilling over her cheeks as she shook her head. "It wasn't what you think," she pleaded, her voice cracking. "I didn't mean for it to happen, Chuck. It wasn't real. It was a mistake, I swear. I... I was just so confused."
Chuck stared at her, his emotions warring inside him. Part of him wanted to believe her, to forgive her, but the pain was still too fresh. He shook his head, taking a step back.
"I don't know if I can do this anymore, Sarah," he said softly, the weight of his words pressing down on both of them. "I don't know if I can keep pretending that everything's okay."
Sarah's breath hitched, her eyes widening with panic. "Please, Chuck," she whispered, her voice desperate. "Don't give up on me. Don't give up on us."
Chuck hesitated, the storm of emotions inside him threatening to tear him apart. He didn't want to give up on her—on them. But he was afraid. Afraid of getting hurt again, afraid of losing her completely.
For a long, agonizing moment, they just stood there, the tension between them thick and suffocating.
And then, slowly, Chuck took a deep breath and stepped toward her, kneeling down so that they were at eye level. He hesitated for a moment, then reached out, gently wiping away the tears from her cheek with his thumb.
Sarah's breath caught in her throat at the touch, her eyes searching his face for any sign of forgiveness, of hope.
"I'm not ready to give up," Chuck said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I need time, Sarah. I need to figure out what this is - what WE are."
Sarah nodded, her tears slowing but still glistening in her eyes. "Take all the time you need," she whispered, her voice shaking with relief. "Just... don't shut me out completely - please, I'm begging you."
Chuck nodded, though his heart still felt heavy with uncertainty. He didn't know what the future held for them, but for now, he wasn't ready to walk away. Not yet.
As he stood, Sarah remained on the floor, watching him with a mixture of hope and fear. She had hurt him deeply, and it would take time to heal. But maybe - just maybe - they still had a chance.
Chuck extended his hand and helped Sarah up. She was shaky on her knees, wobbling slightly, but a small smile graced her swollen lips. They would need to talk about this - a lot - but for now, everything was much better than it had been a few moments ago. They made their way out of the room and down the corridor.
"We're coming back to you Casey," Chuck said, his voice feeling alive again after a whole day of virtually being dead. He looked down at Sarah, who was clinging to his arm like she would never let go, fastened to him like a barnacle to a ship. Sniffing, she dug her face into his shoulder as they walked.
They made their way out through the main room, with a few people casting them strange and even worried glances at seeing Sarah's appearance, but looking away soon enough again. Once outside, they spotted the van and walked over, climbing inside. Casey eyed both of them with concern, although much more sternly at Chuck.
"Wasn't sure what to do about the two of you," he said to them. "But it looks like you sorted yourselves out." He grunted and began to drive as the others fastened themselves in.
Sarah wouldn't let go of Chuck's hand for the entire drive as they made it back to Castle. She felt safe, comfortable while holding it. She felt like an enormous weight had been lifted off of her shoulders. Like her neck was no longer being constricted by a massive python. It was like a supply of oxygen to her - she was so glad she managed to get through to Chuck, at least somewhat. She felt like singing. As they finally rounded into the BuyMore parking lot, the car stopped.
"I'll need to make sure my mission report doesn't mess anything up," huffed Casey, more out of annoyance than sympathy it seemed to the other two.
They all got out and walked down to Castle using the BuyMore entrance, Sarah only letting go of her death-grip on Chuck's hand when they got into the line of sight of the terrible cameras. Sarah however, kept giving Chuck loving glances, and he smiled at her. He was so tired all he could think of was sleep.
As they stowed their gear, the large screen in the main room lit up. The three members of Team Bartowski immediately stood at attention. General Beckman's hawk-like figure appeared:
"Team, Agent Barker was abducted by FULCRUM approximately four hours ago. We have no news on his whereabouts. I want the asset in containment right away." she said, before looking sympathetically at Chuck "I'm sorry Chuck." Chuck wasn't sure what he was more surprised by - the General literally ordering him to be "contained" in front of his own face - or the fact that she called him by his first name. She never does that. What was going on?
Just as suddenly as her face appeared, it was gone and was immediately replaced by the NSA logo.
Sarah and Casey started moving around frantically. Sarah eyed Chuck with horror for a second, before realising that above all else, she has to keep Chuck safe. If he got hurt, or worse, she'd never forgive herself. Nobody can know Chuck is the Intersect. And if that meant bunkering him, then so be it - she'd find a way to be there with him, somehow.
"Wh- What's going on? What does she mean by containment?" asked Chuck, showing visible panic.
"No-tell-motel time for you Bartowski," said Casey, typing frantically on a keyboard. "A secure bunker in an undisclosed location. FULCRUM has him. When he talks, they'll come for you. We're taking you off grid."
"Wait, what about my sister? Is she in danger? Awesome? Morgan?" Chuck asked, frozen into place by this new revalation.
Sarah looked him directly in the eyes, grabbing his forearm, emphasizing how important this was. "First priority is to get you to safety. Then, I'll come back and make sure everyone is okay," she said, seemingly debating whether to give him a kiss or not.
"B- but he's a really tough guy, maybe he won't talk!" Chuck stammered, unable to face the fear of being taken away from his family and friends - and Sarah.
"Chuck!" Sarah yelped, "Everyone talks." she looked up at him, trying to convey the message through her glance that everything would be alright - she'd make sure of that.
"This is 240 - perimeter breach" growled Casey, looking at an alert on the monitor. He pushed himself off the table he was leaning on, grabbing a pump-action shotgun, a Remington 870 off the wall, and another one which he threw over to Sarah.
"This is it- I'm gonna die beneath a yogurt shop!" Chuck stated, horrified.
"Back door, now!" wheezed Casey.
They both grabbed Chuck and virtually dragged him through the hallways of Castle, heading towards the emergency exit. The door was surrounded by red flashing lights signifying that the security has been breached, and someone was inside the compound. Just then, they heard a noise on the other side.
"Chuck, get back!" said Sarah firmly.
Casey and Sarah stood and pointed their shotguns towards the sound, from their hip.
The keypad beside the door stopped flashing red, and turned green, with the letters "LASER SENSORS DISENGAGED" flaring.
The door burst open, and a blood-soaked, limping, barely functioning Agent Cole Barker of the MI6 staggered inside. He was greased from head to foot in dry blood. "Miss me?" he asked, breathless, not looking at anyone in particular.
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A/N2: This one was very, very fun to write. See you soon with the next chapter :)