CHAPTER 1
Chuck's POV
Day 1 – September 19, 2007
Today has been the most significant day of my life, and there was no debating it. One moment I was just a regular guy, or as regular as a nerd like me can be, and the next I found out I am now literally the most important intelligence asset in not only the United States, but also in the whole world! And that came to be because a certain bastard former friend of mine, after years of no contact – not that I would entertain discussing mundane, day-to-day things with him as if what he did actually didn't happen at all – had sent me a government multi-million dollar project in the form of a massive computer database stored in one complex, hitherto only existing in the realm of fiction program, a program consisting of tends of thousands of images, video and audio recordings that I inadvertently downloaded into my brain. Which then made the government forcibly conscript me to be their asset.
Paradoxically, this resulted in my life transitioning into one of the worst and the best periods I've ever had.
On one hand, I hate Bryce for doing this to me. We ended our history that accursed day in Stanford in 2002. I was happy to be rid of him. Permanently. I do not want to be constantly reminded of what he did to my life, to Ellie's life. That was why I regret having ever opened that damn email he sent to me, even though a part of me justified that maybe, just maybe, no matter how a certain voice in the back of my mind says it is the most unlikeliest of things, that Bryce had finally came to his senses, and realized that what he did was the most catastrophic of dick moves in the history of friendship-ending betrayals, and that he was now apologizing for how he screwed up my life. So, I pushed myself into clicking into that email to find out if that slimmest chance of unlikely things will turn out to be true. Instead, it resulted into being the single-most self-destructive choices in my life. Now, I am literally chucked – pardon the horrible pun on my name – into a world of literal day-to-day danger, of lies, manipulation and pretensions. I ended up screwing up my life even worse than it had been in the last five years. For the second time in living memory, I let Bryce destroy my life and damage Ellie's. And Devon's. And Morgan's. Because every second of every minute of every hour of every day of my life that is stuck in this world means a second longer, a minute longer, an hour longer, a day longer that all 3 of them, the most important people in my life, my anchors, will be exposed to danger. No matter how I tried my best to protect them by committing acts that I abhor and would not imagine myself committing willingly in a normal world where I remain as a normal nerdy guy working a 9-5 shift at the BuyMore, being paid $11 an hour, and still sharing living quarters with his older sister-surrogate mother, and her awesome boyfriend.
I hate Bryce.
On the other hand, this bizarre situation had brought what I recognize to be a golden opportunity in my life, and I don't just mean it in terms of righting its course in a socio-economic aspect, but that applies to, I guess, specifically more on the socio- part. For the one who literally introduced me into this new world that I am still sure – as of the moment, at least – that I will remain to be not too fond off, was the most beautiful and awe-inspiring woman in the world. And I do not just mean it lightly. Despite it being too cliché and stupid and presumptuous of me, I think that Sarah Walker, CIA Agent, personified Julius Caesar the best, at least in exemplifying his quote: "I came, I saw, I conquered". That happened. She came to the BuyMore, she saw me, and she conquered my heart and mind. I am not joking. I still find it hard that a woman like her, who is obviously 100 galaxies away – out of the league for a guy like me, was interested in asking me out to dinner. Well, now I know that there was really a hidden agenda behind her asking me out – and that is measuring me up if I really conspired with Bryce to steal government property, and I am still honestly miffed about that, I would never, in any alternate universe or timeline, dare to speak with Bryce about anything remotely related to stealing, a crime he accused and framed me for committing, but I let it go – but still, during our dinner and our subsequent stroll by the bridge and that dancing part at the club, I seriously felt like there was really something in her eyes and demeanor that she was really enjoying the night with my companionship, that it was not entirely business – CIA business – that the night was simply about me, a normal guy, and her, a normal girl, going out on a date and having fun.
But then reality kicks in, and kicks in really hard, doesn't it?
After the car chase from NSA Agent John Casey and his band of goons – a car chase that totally wrecked my Nerd Herder which was sure to get me fired and maybe charged by Big Mike – and after the adrenaline-sucking stopping-a-bomb-in-a-hotel-meant-to-kill-General-Stanford impromptu mission, Sarah and I had a heart-to-heart talk at the Santa Monica pier. She told me that I could never run from the government, from the CIA and the NSA, from Sarah and Casey. She told me that I have to trust her. Looking intently in her eyes, as I was drowning in her deep, cerulean orbs, I found myself promising to trust her, inside my mind at least, while I only gave him a soft, small, shy smile.
Even though I do not know what tomorrow or what the next few days will bring, I feel I could survive, live, because Sarah is there with me, because I can trust her, because she implicitly promised to protect me.
I like Sarah.
Day 6 – September 24, 2007
Sarah and I attended Bryce's funeral.
Like the previous decision of clicking the email Bryce sent to me, I found myself once again needing to justify doing something remotely relating to Bryce. Which his funeral qualified as more than just remotely.
Bryce's death was honestly a shock to me. While I may have hated the guy, really hated and cursed his name in the past several years, I never imagined, or wished him death. I believe in the sanctity of life, great or small, old or young, good or evil. Not that I judge too harshly on the soldiers and policemen and bodyguards who are more often than not forced to take a life in the performance of their duty. And now I know, for certain that is, beyond just the lore that James Bond and Jason Bourne movies had inculcated in me, that spies too are involved in that, in the business of killing and wounding and maiming and harming, by use of a gun or a knife or any other weapon, manufactured or makeshift. Bryce's death at Casey's hands, or gun specifically, is proof of that.
But I digress.
Even Ellie and Devon looked at me funny when I told them I would attend he-who-shall-not-be-named's (in Casa Bartowski at least) funeral. I gave them the same reason I was feeding the snarking my voice inside my mind: that it is the chance to put my demons in bed. No matter how much I curse him, he was already dead, there can be nothing that could be done to remedy the situation he put me through, at least from his end. Let the dead rest.
Yet the same voice in my head kept on whispering in my metaphorical ears, that I need to be there because Sarah will be there, that I need to know how Sarah was coping up with Bryce's death. I already knew that they were partners before. Said annoying voice was snarking that there is more than a snowball's chance in earth that they had been more than partners. But I stubbornly squashed it. I told myself that Sarah is just mourning for her colleague. Someone you work with in nerve-wracking situations, where every minute you could literally fall dead, will definitely leave a lasting impression on you, no matter how you remember them to be.
Looking at Sarah quietly crying in front of Bryce's tomb, I couldn't quite decide which between the justifications I am sticking to, or the hypotheses of the voice in my head, is right.
I couldn't care less, at least at that moment.
Day 25 – October 13, 2007
I numbly lied down on my bed after a wracking night of a supposed offsite install service that turned out to be Carina only playing a prank on me.
Bryce and Sarah turned out to be not only spy partners, they were indeed a spy couple.
From what Carina even hinted, they seemed to be one of the best spy couples out there.
Once again, reality kicked me, and kicked me hard.
Bryce, even beyond the grave, schooled me once more that a guy like him simply gets the girl. And I am not a guy like him. Far from it.
Guys like Bryce always gets the girl. Nerds like me always gets to watch them get the girls.
I now realize that I don't have any chance of getting to be with Sarah at all, at least not in the under the cover phenomenon. She's still with Bryce, even if the latter was already dead. I guess I could understand that. Really. I don't know the length and details about their relationship, but I would guess its deep enough for Sarah to be affected like this.
Understanding that doesn't lessen the pain though.
Right now, she's still with Bryce, and more than likely will still be with him, with his memory, for as long as this assignment continues, for as long as she continues to protect me even as she pretends to be my girlfriend. After all, I'm a living reminder of her time with Bryce, by simply existing and having a connection with him, regardless if that connection was already discarded and despised on my end.
The annoying voice inside my head once again acted up, claiming that if I become a spy, maybe, just maybe, I would have a chance to be with Sarah in the future. The voice claims that Sarah is attracted to spies. For just a couple of minutes I began to entertain the thought, but then I came to my senses thankfully and I disregarded it. I'm not that pathetic to practically change my entire self just to get the girl. And becoming a full-fledged spy just because I wanted to be with Sarah will be the height of stupidity because being a spy will surely heap more danger to my sister and her boyfriend more than they were now unconsciously exposed to when I am still an asset. No, I will not do that to myself, and I will not do that to Ellie.
Still, the fact itself and its implications hurt. Were I a totally petty man, I would have more than likely lash out at Sarah, indirectly, by going out and finding a girl and very publicly flirting with her, maybe making out with her, destroying our cover. I'm not that kind of person. Sarah having a relationship in the past with the person I detested the most was definitely not her fault. Nor was she still being in love with him. Right now, I know my place. She's my handler, and I'm her asset. There is no place for a real relationship between us.
I understand that, subconsciously.
But understanding that doesn't make it any less painful.
And understanding that doesn't mean I'm not allowed to daydream that somehow, the opposite can be true, that what I want the most will happen in the end.
For now, that's the only thing I can hold onto, no matter how futile and senseless it may seem to be for others.
Day 48 – November 5, 2007
So, he did it out of the goodness of his heart? Because he believed that I will not survive this world, with all the danger, the lying, the manipulation, the pretensions? That it is not for me, that it will never be for me?
My heart and my mind are, so torn right now. After years of being ignorant of the reason why Bryce did what he did, I thought I could finally get the peace of mind I had been yearning for so long. That I could move on, even if I could not get justice.
Was Bryce really right? Would I really not survive in his, Sarah's, Casey's world? I guess so. Even now, I still squeal like a girl at the most mundane of things. Every mission we get to, I feel so out of depth, completely dependent on Sarah and Casey. I hate being so helpless, so reliant on their protection, imposing on them and doubling their efforts just so the mission could be done. But I really could not do more than what I am doing. That would really preclude a huge personality change in me in order to improve to enough of a state for me to offer something more meaningful and productive to the team effort than what I am offering right now. And I know that with the way I am, I would literally just be a burden in a mission, and would die in minutes. I shudder thinking of that, and what it would do to my sister. So I guess, at least in that regard, Bryce is right. He was justified for framing me up and having me expelled from Stanford.
Yet was he? Came the riposte of that constant companion in my mind. Granted, I did live out of the world of spying, at least until I downloaded the Intersect, which ironically and paradoxically, came to me by way of Bryce express, for the past five years. Were those years can really be called living? I am on a dead-end job, me, a Stanford near graduate. I was living with my sister, me, a 27-year-old grown man. I haven't had a real girlfriend (Sarah obviously didn't count) since Jill, me a romantic, supposed-to-be (at least according to Ellie, Devon and Morgan) cute and sweet guy.
In short, my life was spiraling into worthlessness in the aftermath of what happened at Stanford. Was it preferable than being dead because I did not crack up to be a spy? Would I exchange one thing for another?
I don't know, I honestly don't. I wasn't given the choice to decide which I would like to take my life to, in the first place. Bryce simply took the decision out of my hands and did it himself. And that is one of the reasons I hate him. He had no right to do that. Bestfriend or not, he should have let me make the choice. After all, it is my life to do as I please. I would have rejected it anyway (are you sure the CIA would let you decide to back out, came the voice once again).
Then after all that decision, he still ended up chucking me into the world he so gallantly saved me from, by way of sending me the Intersect. He undid all he had done, all his sacrifices – and that is to say I am indeed quite literally one of those he sacrificed, for the greater good, and what he believed is for my good – by that single act. Endangering my life. Ellie's life. Couldn't he have just destroyed it? Granted, now knowing what the Intersect is and what it can do, it would be a colossal waste of resources and advantages if it was destroyed, but compared to having sent it to a civilian guy who can practically be nabbed by evil G-men in search of the Intersect itself? The choice should have been obvious. Unless Bryce was really a traitor – and I don't think even for a moment that he was one, even if he was the king of bastards – and was intending the program to be sent to a civilian who then can really be easily taken away by the enemy.
He fucked up my life because he thought he was doing it for my benefit, for my safety, and then he fucked up my life again because, well, I guess I would never know now, since the guy was dead.
I'm still so confused over a lot of things, but one thing I am still sure of that has definitely not changed with this revelation.
I hate Bryce Larkin.
Day 62 – November 19, 2007
That had been the best and most intense kiss of my life.
We just shook everything away as Sarah and I embraced each other, and engaged in what we thought would be the first and last time we would be able to kiss each other, for real. As the ticking of the timer on the bomb subconsciously reminded us that we are seconds away from dying, all we could focus was on each other's lips, the feel of each other's skin, the heat of each other's body.
Seconds passed, and then we frowned as the heat we felt and thought was coming from the bomb exploding in the last nanoseconds of our life, was in reality only the heat of our moment.
Startled, we separated.
And then reality kicked again, without fail, kicking me real hard once more.
Sarah said that the kiss was uncomfortable for her.
And despite quipping that it was totally comfortable on my end, I was reminded harshly of our damned situation again. Me being an asset, her being the handler. Me being the best friend of her dead boyfriend, and her assignment for the duration that I remain the host of the Intersect.
If given the chance to travel back in time to the beginning of that intense scene at the front of the bomb capsule (it was really weird for a bomb to have a form like that, but whatever), would I have rejected Sarah's tug and kiss? Most definitely not. The kiss was memorable, not only because it was with her, not only because it honestly topped all the other kisses I've had in my entire life, not only because it would probably the only time I got to kiss her outside the cover, but also because it was precisely a reminder of our unique situation. Of our accursed situation.
I shouldn't, we shouldn't have done that. But we did anyway. And yet that, and what Sarah said, would have to be clear enough for me to never repeat that again. For my sake. I may have the liberty to dream of those scenes with her, but I was not at liberty to enact those in real life. At least not beyond what was necessary to maintain the cover.
I don't know how long can I abide by this resolution, but I dearly hope I could for a long time, at least until the Intersect is removed.
Or I would lose myself in her even more than I am right now, and I honestly could say it was not a good thing for that to happen.
Day 65 – November 22, 2007
I can't believe they did it, in my room of all places!
Watching them in a passionate embrace like that, seemingly without a care in the world, suddenly turned back the pendulum of time on me once again, bringing me back to more than five years ago, watching the same scene, in the same place (yet different locale), with the same man involved. The only thing that changed was that it was a different woman this time.
How could he do this to me? Was the lingering question in my mind. Yet the answer came instantaneously. Just as Bryce screwed my life over twice, he also twice desecrated my bedroom and took away my woman, twice in a row.
I guess I am exaggerating, Sarah was not really mine to begin with, and would never be, I am sure. But the principle still stands.
I guess I am still too naïve. I believe Bryce's plea that he was only there for our help, for Sarah's help. I never did expect what kind of help he would get from Sarah, not until it smacked me right in the face.
I found it hard to breathe, hard to utter even a whisper of a single word.
The memory of him and Jill doing exactly what he and Sarah are engaged in right now was suddenly juxtaposed in my mind again. A memory I desperately buried to the recesses of my mind. A secret I've told no one. Not even Ellie. Or Morgan. They knew that Jill cheated on me with Bryce, a few days after the bastard got me expelled. But they never knew how exactly I came to that knowledge.
Bryce apparently didn't see it enough that he tormented me from his grave, he literally rose up from the dead just to reteach me the lesson.
Was he even dead in the first place? Or was he just pretending to be dead in order for his entrance to be more grandiose, to be more dramatic?
Right now, I realized that Sarah too, had become another bane in my existence. Not because she was intentionally doing it to hurt me, but because no matter what she did or not do, subconsciously or not, she would always be the albatross on my metaphorical neck. Binding me to a cover relationship neither of us can pursue, and only one of us was dreaming that it could extend beyond that, with the both of us unable to be with someone we wanted, who can make us happy.
A part me of me resents her for being party with Bryce in doing such a desecration of my room, but I guess she didn't know anyway. I understood that.
But understanding that did not make the pain lessen, even a bit.
This was the final make up call for me. No more daydreaming of what could be in the future. The only thing left is the cover. I promise myself that it would not always be like this, that someday I would be Intersectless. That is what will be the focus of my daydreams, not a futile relationship based on nothing. For now, I will survive, carry on. Much is at stake here, my life, my happiness. Ellie and Devon and Morgan's lives and happiness.
As I wiped away the tears that I've only now noticed I was shedding, I found myself reiterating what I know since that fateful day at Stanford.
I hate Bryce Larkin.
Yet I was surprised to realize that a beginning of something was being realized in me, even if I could not believe it was happening in the first place, even if I was trying to stop it.
I am starting to hate Sarah Walker.
Day 66 – November 23, 2007
What I've feared would happen has now really happened.
Sarah left with Bryce.
I guess I was deluding myself till the end that at least, just for the sake of the cover, of her mission, that Sarah would remain. I don't hope anymore for something to happen between us. I just only hope that she will still be with me, with us, with the team, in the capacity of a handler, a teammate, a cover-girlfriend. Even if I was starting to realize that I don't like her anymore (are you sure, came that voice once again), a huge part of me still wanted for her to stay. I don't know why. She's like a drug that I know is bad for me, but that I could bring myself to part with.
In the Buy More, I came to really see why she and Bryce was destined to be together. What Carina only implied a month ago, I now witnessed with my own eyes. Logically speaking, I guess I could understand that with such chemistry like that, they were really bound to be together in all the ways partners and couples are meant to be. Logically speaking, it showed me why I didn't stand a chance in the first place.
But logic tend to be absent in matters of the heart more often than not.
There is nothing to be add. What has come to pass cannot be undone anymore.
In my foolish naivety, hoping for once last chance of a miracle, of something the fates graciously had thrown in my favor, I tried to call her. Thrice. All three times went unanswered.
That was enough. I've did all I can.
It is time to fully commit to reality, to my reality. No more silly dreams, silly hopes, silly second, or third or fourth or fifth chances.
As I ravenously peruse the piles of documents I've discovered here in the hidden basement of our old house – and ain't it a discovery all on its own – I was reminded of the fact that I realized just yesterday, with quite an additional footnote.
I hate Bryce Larkin.
I am now hating Sarah Walker, for what she represented, for what she did to me unconsciously.
I hate myself, for not hating her enough to curse and forget her like I did with Bryce, or what I failed to do with Bryce.
I hate my life.
Day 69 – November 26, 2007
"Care to share why you're drinking yourself to death?"
Chuck groggily and drunkenly turned to his side to look at the person who dared to intrude his melancholic time. And despite getting quite hammered, was momentarily made sober enough by her striking beauty, before shaking his head.
'Yet another gorgeous woman come to toy with pathetic Chuck Bartowski, hic.'
He turned back to his glass as he growled, in a growl delivered by a drunk such as himself.
"Why do you care?"
The brunette woman grinned, and touched his arm, which stunned Chuck, and made him sober for at least another couple of seconds, eyes widening as they bore at the porcelain-skinned, soft-looking hand resting on his left forearm.
"Coz I find myself quite thirsty, but unfortunately could not find a good enough reason to drink. I'm hoping I could commiserate with you so that I can indulge myself. Would that be okay?"
Chuck swayed a little as he stared at her eyes – sparkling cool grey ones – as he tried to summon enough sober brain cells to ponder her request. After a moment, judging she didn't mean him any harm – he hadn't flashed on her face, or her clothing, or her voice yet (was that because he was stupid drunk? Does alcohol lay low the mighty Intersect? If so, what a discovery!) he ended up shrugging.
What's the harm of sharing a drink with someone?
"G-good, hic!"
The lady smiled, and once again Chuck was caught staring stupidly at her, this time to her supple, full lips. She then extended her right hand to him, in what Chuck, in his addled state, could barely register as the universal gesture for greeting someone you just met.
"Before we drank this bar dry of their supply, it would be impolite to not know of each other's names, no? I am Natalie Evergreen, Nat for sure. Can I know the name of my drinking buddy for the night?" she asked flirtingly, and Chuck could not help but stupidly, and drunkenly, grin at her.
"Charles, Charles Bartowski. Chuck for short."
Nat smiled, as she grabbed the glass delivered by the bartender who was watching the pair intently, while shaking his head.
"Alright, Chuck, let's drink the night away, and hope we met Death herself offering us more on the other side!"
"Amen to that!"
The night was still young, and the pair would soon find out that there are more ways to ending it just by drinking themselves to death.
Author's Note:
I wrote this fic upon the realization that in Season 1, Chuck's actions and perspectives vis a vis the reflection on what Bryce did to him twice in a row didn't really make sense. It was implied in the show that Frost/Mary Bartowski left her children when Chuck was 9 and Ellie was 12; Orion/Stephen Bartowski followed suit around 4 years later, when Chuck was 13 and Ellie 16. At that point, they were still minors, subject to the regulations that abandoned children could and would more than likely be sent to foster homes if they have no living relatives they can go to. And apparently, the Bartowski siblings have none, and yet there is also an implication and quite a constant in headcanon that both escaped being sent to foster care, and Ellie stood up as Chuck's legal guardian and practical caretaker, while being a child herself.
There didn't seem any proof that the family was loaded in any way, and we don't know if Orion regularly sent his children some money incognito to support their expenses at home and at school. I would say no, since there are also headcanon facts about Ellie getting jobs while being at school, the pair getting some sort of scholarship, and Ellie (and Devon) still having an outstanding student loan. That would point to the fact that Ellie, apart from raising Chuck, was the one primarily making ends meet, while still attending her classes. That is indeed a herculean task to begin with, and it speaks much of Ellie's capabilities and mental strength to have done all that and more.
The circumstances of their parents abandoning them at such a young age, and with Ellie raising him, would more than likely assure that Chuck develops a hero-worship perspective of his older sister. Not the icky sister-complex, but I would presume that Chuck would literally do anything and everything for Ellie. There are plenty of evidences from the show of Chuck doing just that. True, Sarah in the end became the most important and most loved woman in his life, but I think as late as Season 2, Ellie's position in Chuck's world was unquestioned. At times in Seasons 3, 4 and 5 there were moments where she even figured more prominently than Sarah, at least in respect to Chuck.
That said, what gets to me is the fact that Chuck seemed to be not that all angry with Bryce with regards to his framing up and getting expelled from Stanford, not to mention stealing his girlfriend. It was glossed over pretty much in most of Season 1, and even the first real glimpse of this dynamics, in Episode 4, it was pretty lame. And come the reveal in Episode 7 on why Bryce really did it, it seemed that Chuck almost wholeheartedly forgave him there and there, and moving forward, in Episode 10 Season 1, Episode 3 Season 2, and Episode 22 Season 2, the only friction between the two former friends revolved around Sarah.
In this fic, I tried to work it out a scenario where Chuck deemed Bryce's betrayal in Stanford as not only destroying him, but also hurting Ellie. Realistically speaking, if someone screwed you over and caused you to get shafted at a dream job, a job someone you love worked so hard to help you achieve, you would more than likely hate the bastard not only for what he did to you, but also for making the efforts and dreams of your loved one worthless. That is the dynamics I'm going with this. It doesn't matter if Bryce did it for Chuck's benefit, or for his own (he might just really not want to share glory in Project Omaha). In Chuck's mind, what Bryce did was tantamount to disrespecting all the sacrifices and hardships Ellie suffered through to help mold Chuck in what they hoped he would be. For that alone, Bryce would not be easily forgiven. His hold over Sarah in Season 1, and in Season 2 (at least to Chuck's perspective), is another matter exacerbating Chuck's resentment and hatred of him.
With this dynamic established, quite a series of new perspectives could be brought to the fic, causing a domino of changes, as can already be hinted in the latter parts of the diary-sort of notes made by Chuck.