Thursday, September 30, 2010

Chapter 23: Sarah Versus the Bartowskis

Integrity is telling myself the truth. And honesty is telling the truth to other people. – Spencer Johnson


Sarah Versus the Bartowskis

12 NOVEMBER 2007
LOS ANGELES INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT (LAX)
23:17 PST


"You know, I really am capable of sitting here for fifteen minutes by myself without causing trouble," Chuck said. He was never going to admit having Casey nearby made facing the airport easier. "You don't have to wait."

Casey fiddled with an unlit cigar, glaring at the no-smoking signs posted liberally around the baggage claim area. They'd found a couple of unoccupied chairs to wait it all out, as Sarah's plane had left Dulles a half-hour behind schedule and had apparently met up with some pretty strong headwinds in mid-air. "I've yet to see you prove that, Bartowski."

Chuck opened his mouth to protest, but stopped. It was a fair point. "Fine."

Casey threaded the cigar through his fingers. "Leave your phone alone. The screen says her plane's landed. She'll get here when she gets here." For good measure, he kicked Chuck's ankle, as that entire leg was jiggling. "Have some damned self-respect, will you?"

"What?"

"You're like a virgin on prom night. She'll get here when she gets here."

"It's taking her a long time."

"She's female. They like to make you wait. Lets you know the pecking order." Casey grunted his opinion of that. "Want my advice, Bartowski? Stay a bachelor."

"Okay, first of all, I'm not a virgin. I just feel that should be stated for the record. And second of all, I'm not looking to date Sarah, so I don't see what any of this has to do with bachelorhood."

"You're not?" Casey snorted. "News to me."

"One, that's inappropriate as we're coworkers. Two, pretty sure that even if I were interested, she's not." She didn't have reason to be, Chuck added silently, as he was nothing but pathetic Chuck Bartowski, who couldn't go outside without needing a shower. Sarah definitely deserved better.

Casey snorted again. "She's also right there."

"What?" Chuck's head shot up. Indeed, Sarah had just come through the arrivals gate; she stood off to the side, scanning the crowd for him. She waved and began striding over.

"Nice T-shirt," Chuck said when she drew near.

Sarah rolled her eyes down at the green shirt with the words "Washington DC" embossed in gold across the front. "I spilled my drink on my blouse in DC, so I got this at the gift shop. Don't mock. Hey, you." She handed Casey a Styrofoam container before she pulled Chuck in for a hug.

When she turned toward Casey, he gave a warning growl. "Touch me, Walker, and I'll take a page out of Bartowski's book and tranq you right here, airport security be damned."

"Aw, I missed you, too, Casey." Sarah smirked. "You boys are my ride, right?"

"Bartowski is." Casey put a hand on Chuck's shoulder to shove him forward. "He's your problem now, Walker." With one final smirk at both of them, he left, grumbling about the CIA, as he always did.

"Such a happy soul," Chuck said. "Do we need to wait for your bags?"

"Nope."

"Really?"

"I was only gone for a day. How much luggage did you think I need?" Sarah patted the laptop bag over her shoulder.

"Hmm. Guess I'm just used to Ellie and her convoy of suitcases. She packs the same amount for two weeks as she does for an overnight trip."

"I lived off nothing but the land and my wits for three days in the Congo," Sarah said as they made their way to the exit and to the parking garage. "It tends to put things in perspective."

"Uh-huh. Well, either way, let me take that." Chuck snatched the shoulder strap before Sarah could protest and slung it across the shoulder opposite from her. She could grab the bag back if she put her mind to it, but not without a challenge.

Instead of protesting, though, she just shrugged. "Okay. Where did you park?"

"It's a bit of a hike. Sorry. You're not too tired, are you?"

"I slept on the plane."

"Lucky. I've never been able to do that."

Sarah shrugged again. "I am hungry, though," she said after a moment of silence. "Think we can stop and get something?"

13 NOVEMBER 2007
MANHATTAN BEACH
00:12 PST


"It's official," Sarah said. "I'll never doubt you again." She proved it by taking a large bite of her burger.

"As well you shouldn't. Geez. I can't believe you've been in California a month and you've yet to go to an In-N-Out." Chuck picked up his soda and took a long drink as he shook his head. "So many gaps in your education."

"I like to think I'm working on it." Sarah swallowed the mouthful she'd talked around. She looked out toward the water, inky black against the darker oblivion of the night sky. Only a few stars were visible this close to LA. At her request, Chuck had driven them both to the beach and parked. They sat on the hood of his car, facing the water, the food between them. It was more than a bit chilly, but Chuck had brought a jacket—which he'd promptly given to Sarah. He'd worn long sleeves, after all.

And it wasn't like he really noticed the cold. He was too busy being impressed by the inroads Sarah was making on her double-double.

"You have much to learn, Kemo Sabe," he said sagely, eyeing his fries. He hadn't eaten most of them, but they were still almost all gone.

"Apparently." Sarah stole another fry. "For example, these. I didn't see these anywhere on the menu, and yet the guy in the drive-thru didn't even question you when you said 'Animal Style Fries.'"

"Half the fun of In-N-Out is ordering off the secret menu."

"Does that make you an In-N-Out spy, I wonder?" Sarah polished off the burger and leaned back.

"Yes." Chuck kept his face absolutely deadpan. "I am much skilled in the ways of the In-N-Out. In fact, I am one with the secret menu. I'd tell you, but then—"

"I'd have to kill you," Sarah chorused with him, smiling.

"Apparently your education has fewer gaps than you think."

Sarah waved a hand, almost a listless motion. "Not really. Bryce used to say that all the time."

Chuck, reaching for a fry, stilled. He forced himself to pick up the fry and take a casual bite, but not quickly enough. As expected, Sarah's eyes tracked the motion. "And now I've killed the mood," she announced.

Chuck swallowed the fry. She had, but… "If we're going to point fingers, let's put the blame where it really belongs, which is with Bryce. He's the one that really killed the mood here. However, since you brought him up…"

"Yes. Time to talk." Sarah sighed and pushed off the hood of the car. "Walk with me?"

"Sure." They left their shoes in the car and tossed the trash into one of the receptacles on the way to the sand. Even with Sarah's announcement, both were quiet until they'd reached the water down by the sand.

"So you went to DC because of Bryce?" Chuck asked.

Sarah stayed quiet for another moment longer. "Yes. And to take a few lie detector tests."

"What?"

"It's not a big deal. I had to take the same ones last month after we got picked up in Greece."

"What?" Indignation had Chuck straightening up. "Why?"

"If I'm Fulcrum or working with Bryce, they need to know right away so that they can start vetting my replacement."

The thought of Sarah ever being replaced threatened to suck all of the oxygen out of the air, but his indignation was still burning too hotly for Chuck to acknowledge it. He scowled. "If they're making you take all of these tests, why aren't they doing the same to me? Frankly, I find that a little sexist and insulting. After all, I look far guiltier than you do. I gave Bryce those scans."

"Chuck they can't make you go through lie detector testing."

"Why not?"

Sarah seemed at a loss for words, which confused him. It wasn't that hard a question. She shook her head. "It would be a bad idea, that's all," she said after a minute. "We have no idea what sort of thing might affect the Intersect. And Gwen Davenport's not going to let anybody within miles of your head without explicit written permission."

"Signed in triplicate," Chuck agreed. "By the president. Still, Sarah, you shouldn't have to do those tests. It's like a freaking slap in the face."

Sarah moved a shoulder. "If it proves I'm innocent and it keeps me here, I'm fine."

It wasn't fine. It was bull. Chuck, however, recognized the look on her face, so he kept that to himself. The government had no right in hell to treat one of their best agents that way, not after everything she'd sacrificed for the Intersect project. He forced a teasing smile on his face. "And the tests did prove that you're not a traitorous double agent, right?"

"Also that I'm a borderline type-A personality, among other things. And that I'm not Fulcrum."

Chuck nodded. They walked along the water's edge for a couple of minutes. "You said something about briefings?" he asked when the silence had stretched into an uncomfortable length. "You didn't have to sit and lecture a bunch of secret agents in dark suits and sunglasses about gun safety, did you?"

"No." Sarah smiled. "Just Beckman and Graham."

"Oh, that sounds like a party and a half."

"Not really, no. I had to give them both a personalized breakdown of my observations about Bryce."

"I hope you remembered to mention that he snores."

"Loud enough to wake the dead," Sarah said, raising her eyebrows. "Had to wear earplugs in college?"

"On the positive side, it taught me how to sleep through everything up to and including the zombie apocalypse."

"Handy."

"I always thought so. Did they know anything about this Fulcrum group Bryce is talking about, or are we looking at a complete SNAFU of epic proportions?"

"It appears that if we did have any intel on Fulcrum, it went the way of the original Intersect files."

"So…" Chuck swallowed. "Stuck in my noggin?"

"Maybe. They're not sure. I'll brief you and Casey on everything they covered today, and about Operation Prometheus's new objectives and mission tomorrow." Sarah stopped walking and stared hard out into the water. The moon had waxed to a sliver, allowing only minimal moonlight across the beach. Chuck could see splinters of it highlighting Sarah's hair, turning the blond silver around the edges. Wary now, he paused and turned. He recognized that look, however slight it might be. Sarah was working herself up to tell him something.

He stuck his hands in his pockets and waited her out. It wouldn't be long now.

Sure enough, she didn't disappoint. "Chuck, Bryce wasn't the only reason I went to DC."

"Okay. What was the other reason?"

Sarah took a deep breath. "Ellie."

Everything inside Chuck went deathly silent, so quiet that there wasn't even an echo of thought. He slowly drew his hands out of his pockets to fold his arms over his chest. "Explain."

His voice didn't sound like him. It sounded older, angrier. Harder.

Indeed, Sarah gave him a startled look. "They want to add Ellie to Operation Prometheus."

"And why would they want to do that? Unless…" Chuck trailed off. He felt the first sharp taste of fury begin to boil through him, so cold that it left smoking burns everywhere. "You told them." It wasn't a question.

"I had to." Her chin came up.

"Why?"

"Did you want them to find out because we screwed up somehow?"

"Isn't it better to ask forgiveness than permission?"

"Which is essentially what I spent all day doing." Sarah crossed her arms over her chest.

Normally, the warning edge to her words would have made Chuck back off and start apologizing. That was how it went between them, wasn't it? They had a fight, they saw reason, and it was over. Not this time. Fear of Sarah had been replaced by terror for Ellie, and anger, and every awful emotion under the sun. He wanted to hack and slash and burn. No way in hell was the government that had managed to ruin his life going anywhere near his sister. He'd take down a platoon of Army Rangers bare-handed before it came to that.

But he wasn't facing Army Rangers now. No, he just had an exasperated Sarah Walker to contend with, which was worse.

"That's your own fault," he said. "If you hadn't told them—"

"They would have found out at the worst possible moment and they would have done something more drastic."

"More drastic?" Chuck laughed, an ugly, bitter sound that surprised even him. "Sarah, I told her so that she wouldn't kick you out of the apartment. That was all it was. It should have stayed between her and you and me. There was no reason to get the NSA, CIA, or the whole damned government involved!"

"And what happens when one of us accidentally says the wrong thing, or Ellie herself slips up—"

"Ellie wouldn't—"

"What then, Chuck?" Sarah's eyes were practically blazing in the low light, cobalt blue against the night. "They wanted to put her in witness protection."

Chuck's stomach dropped out. "Wh-what—"

"But I convinced them that that would irreparably damage the Intersect. So a compromise was struck."

The words "witness protection" were still making him light-headed. Lose Ellie? After all of the leaps and bounds they'd made, after getting her back after five years apart? No way in hell. Chuck's knees went rubbery, so he dropped down into the sand right on the spot. "Compromise?" he asked.

"Hear me out." Sarah folded her legs under her and sat next to him. She seemed to be vibrating with anger, but her voice was coolly controlled. "Their first option was to throw Ellie and Devon into witness protection, as my cover has been blown. If Ellie chooses to keep me on as a roommate, we may not have any trouble, as I talked Beckman and Graham into believing that would be enough."

"If they're fine with that, why—"

"It's pretty much the same arrangement we have now, I know," Sarah said.

Chuck glowered. "Great. Fine. Let's do that. I'll talk to Ellie—"

"But," Sarah said, holding up a hand and stressing the word, "you need to understand something, Chuck. If we do that, if we let sleeping dogs lie or whatever, Ellie can be used as leverage against you."

The blood drained out of Chuck's face. "They wouldn't—"

"Damn it, Chuck, these are the same idiots who locked you away in the middle of Siberia! Hell yes they would!"

Chuck's hands started to shake. Both he and Sarah glanced down at them. He shoved them into his pockets and glared at her. "Why did you have to tell them?" he demanded, not caring that he sounded petulant.

"Because let's say I didn't tell them, and they still somehow find out. You know what happens then? Ellie lands in witness protection, I'm working in an outpost in the ass-end of Australia, and worst of all, you're back in a bunker getting fed daily assignments." Sarah sighed and buried her hands in her hair. "Want to hear option B now?"

"Unless it involves a time machine—"

"It doesn't."

"Then no."

"Too bad. Option B means that—"

"I don't have to listen to this." Fury, disgust, fear all mingled together to sit like a rusted, sickening ball in his stomach. He pushed himself to his feet.

"Where are you going?"

"To call Beckman and Graham and tell them to leave my sister out of this."

"Chuck—"

"No. No way in hell am I letting them anywhere near her. You can come with me or you can get a cab, which of course I will pay for since I'm the one stranding you, but whether you come with me or not, I'm going." Chuck started to stride away.

"Chuck!"

Again, he stopped, but he didn't turn. "Sarah, for the last time—"

"I'm not stopping you. I just wondered how you were going to go anywhere without these." Behind Chuck, something jingled.

He turned, slowly, and stared at the keys that dangled from Sarah's fingers. Even without the Lego Darth Vader keychain, they were unmistakable. He felt around in his pockets. Empty. "How the hell—they teach pick-pocketing at the Farm?"

Why Sarah would look sad at that, he had no earthly idea. At another point, he would have cared. "No," she said. "I learned that a long time before I got to the Farm."

"When? Back in your days of working for the Artful Dodger?" Chuck rolled his eyes and held out a hand for his keys.

Her fist closed around them. "Not until you hear me out."

"If it puts my sister anywhere near the government, no."

"Damn it, Chuck, she's been in range of the government since you decided you wanted the operation set in Burbank."

"Fine. That's an easy fix. I'll leave Burbank—"

"And cost the government millions of dollars to move mission headquarters? Get real, Chuck. And it doesn't change the fact that Ellie knows. Damn it, I had been doing my level best to make sure it didn't come to this, so that we wouldn't end up in this position. I was trying to convince Ellie that we were just dating or something inappropriate, so that she wouldn't wonder—"

Chuck choked on nothing.

"But I seriously underestimated all things Bartowski. Again. Now will you please just listen to me for one minute?"

"Don't have much of a choice, as you stole my keys." Chuck waved his cell phone at her, grateful she hadn't seen fit to take that, too. "Two minutes before I call a cab."

"Fine." Sarah took a deep breath. "You're right. We can go back to the arrangement we have now, with Ellie knowing precisely what she does now and nothing more. But know that Ellie will never fully be safe from the government and the threat of witness protection, so really, burying our heads in the sand and pretending everything is copacetic isn't an option."

"What is, then?"

"We invite Ellie to join Prometheus."

"No."

"Still my two minutes, Chuck. Ellie joins Prometheus as an auxiliary member, and she gets a rep."

Chuck's hands slowly dropped to his sides. "Like Gwen."

"Not just like Gwen. She gets Gwen. I made that part clear, and I stopped by to see Gwen on my way to the airport. She's already agreed to take Ellie's case, which she can't do unless Ellie gets an official position in the organization. In this case, it would be the NSA."

Despite everything, Chuck felt a stab of insult. "Why not CIA?"

"Because three CIA members to Casey's one NSA member doesn't make any sense." Sarah abruptly turned and stared out across the water again.

Chuck absorbed all of this without moving. His brain was already at work, turning over everything Sarah was telling him, even through a bitter sort of anger. She had a point. He didn't want her to be right.

"But it does come with downsides," Sarah said, still facing away from him. "Ellie would be expected to play a part in Prometheus." She paused, took a deep breath. "Chuck, she would be read into the full Prometheus reports. The Intersect, all of it. She would be brought in as your primary physician, as well as emergency medical help for the team."

"Isn't that against common sense—too close to the patient?"

Sarah shook her head. "Yes, but we don't have a lot of options. Bryce maneuvered you into such a strange position, Chuck. Casey and I are pretty much frozen to Prometheus, whatever we do, as it's always a risk bringing in new personnel. The more people that know your identity and your abilities, the greater the risk of that knowledge getting out becomes. And with Ellie, you and I both know that would never be a problem."

"But, if that's the case, then why does Ellie need to know about the Intersect—"

"Because the Intersect is a part of you, and you're the first person to ever have something like this buried in your brain. It has everything to do with your health now. Ellie would need to know about it." She took a deep breath. "There's another thing. They want her for more than that, though."

"Why? What the hell does the government want with my sister?"

"Realistically?" Sarah winced, just an imperceptible movement, and Chuck's eyes narrowed. "Chuck, you have to understand something—"

"Just tell me."

"Ellie's made no bones of the fact that she hopes to go into neurology. Her education shows the very obvious trend toward it, and she's applied to USC for a neurology fellowship." Sarah turned and faced Chuck. "She won't get it this year—she's up against some of the brightest minds in the country, and the program is limited, even if she was in the top five percent of her class and brilliant besides."

"I hear a 'but' in your voice," Chuck said slowly.

"The government—the NSA in this case—is willing to pull some strings and get her that fellowship."

"What do they want from her in return, Sarah?"

"They want her to monitor the effects of the Intersect on your brain."

Chuck sat down in the sand again. "Ellie's wanted that fellowship since middle school."

"I know." When Chuck shot a suspicious look at Sarah, she shrugged. "No, it doesn't say so in her file. She told me so herself. We have been roommates for over a month, you know. And Chuck, it's a great fit. She'd be able to look for signs that Casey and I miss, and she'd know your identity and your medical history better than any other neurologist would."

"And I wouldn't just be Patient X to her." Chuck said nothing for a full minute. He had his face turned toward the ocean, could feel the breeze ruffling his shirt and his hair and making his hands and feet cold. But he paid attention to none of it. His brain was too busy spinning, going through every possibility, even though he wanted nothing more than to throw an actual tantrum right there on the sand. The government had done enough to Ellie Bartowski. Couldn't they see that? Couldn't they see that they'd damaged her when they hadn't told her that Chuck was fine? And now they wanted more from her.

But she'd wanted that fellowship for nearly twenty years now. And the government was just…offering it to her. She'd get her dream, she wouldn't be leverage, and best of all, he wouldn't have to lie to her. Chuck felt Sarah sit down next to him on the sand, but didn't look over. Was it worth it? Was all of this, all of Ellie's dreams and their problems being solved, worth the strings that would be placed over everything?

A thought occurred to him. "So you're saying that in addition to studying my head and working on a very competitive fellowship, she'd also be team physician?" Chuck gave Sarah a look. "Are you crazy? I know my sister is great, but even she needs sleep."

"I know that. I petitioned to have Devon added as a civilian consultant so that he can be team physician in her stead."

"Awesome's gonna be the team doc?"

"He'd have a more restricted clearance than Ellie, technically—not that 'clearance' really matters with you Bartowskis as you tell each other everything anyway—but he's more qualified for the position, as he's a surgeon and we might need that." Sarah gave Chuck a droll look. "I may have underestimated the Bartowskis once, but not again. Your programming is set to 'emotional chatterbox.'"

"No emotion left untold," Chuck said, though he didn't quite see the humor at the moment.

Sarah let him have another minute of quiet, while his mind roiled and churned. "Where's your head at?" she finally asked, nerves clear in her voice.

Chuck shook his head. "I don't want any of this to be happening," he said. "I don't care if that sounds petulant, or whiny, or spoiled. I don't want any of this to go near my sister. She's a good person, one of the few decent people left in the world." She'd helped raise him when it would have been the easiest thing to leave him to his own devices. She'd gone out of her way to make sure that her little brother had every advantage on the planet, and now he was dragging her into government conspiracies.

Government conspiracies that could help her get her lifelong dream.

But at a price, he knew.

"And I'm angry," he went on. "Really mad."

"At me?"

"No. Well, yes." Chuck glared at the water. If only she hadn't told, he wouldn't be sitting on the sand, contemplating changing Ellie's life completely. It didn't matter that she had a point. "But at other things, too. You should have told me first, what you were going to do."

"Somebody once told me that it's better to ask forgiveness than permission," Sarah said. Chuck just switched his scowl from the sea to her. She sighed and hugged her knees to her chest. "Guess now's not the time to be glib."

"Gee, really?" Chuck's voice dripped with sarcasm. "You're under orders to tell Ellie about this, aren't you?"

"She's getting off work in half an hour. I called her and let her know we needed to talk."

"You can't put it off until I've had time to think about it, and maybe come up with some alternatives?"

Sarah shook her head, looking sad now. "The bosses want her answer tomorrow."

Chuck swore his opinion of that.

"You're pissed," Sarah said, "and you have every right to be. I know you and Ellie are close, and you see this as the government screwing her over like they did to you."

"Damn right I do."

"But Chuck, it's like you told her the other night. She's going to have the same people in her corner as you do now. She'll have Gwen protecting her interests, and she'll have me and even Casey. And she'll have you."

"Lot of help I've been," Chuck said, snorting, "seeing as I'm the one that got her into this."

"You're not. If we're going to put the blame where it belongs, let's point fingers at the right people, right? It's not you, and it's not me, doing this to Ellie. This is all on the government's shoulders." Sarah touched his shoulder, tentatively, to make him look over at her. "She's a victim here, just like you are, and you both have people willing to help you out. Neither of you is alone in this, okay?"

Chuck stared at her until he had to look away. "Okay."

"Now, c'mon, we need to go. I stopped feeling my feet ten minutes ago, and I want to prep for my talk with Ellie." Sarah rose and reached down to pull him up as well.

He shrugged out of her grip and pushed himself to his feet without her help. "I want to be there when you talk to her."

Sarah hesitated. "I think it would be for the best if Ellie and I talked privately," she said after a few seconds. "I can give her a message from you, but that's all. I'm the one that's been deceiving her, so I should be the one that comes clean."

That was a bit much, the part of Chuck that wasn't buried under layers of anger and hurt thought. Sarah had been doing her job, representing his wishes, when she had lied to Ellie. It wasn't any reason to wear a hair-shirt and do penance, but he couldn't quite bring himself to say so when he was still so annoyed at her for essentially going behind his back to report to their superiors about Ellie.

They walked back to the car in silence. Every few feet, Chuck felt Sarah's eyes flick toward him. He kept his face set into a scowl. He couldn't think. Everything inside was a mishmash of confused emotion. Hope for Ellie. Wanting to come clean to his sister, fully. Wanting to run far, far away and take his sister, keep her safe from everything the government could throw at her, the way she'd once protected him from the monsters that lived under the bed and in the closet.

But they were adults now. And the only protection he could offer was…Sarah.

She gave him back his keys when they reached his car. Still silent, they pulled on their shoes. Chuck turned on the ignition and put the car into gear. Twenty minutes stretched by, a small eternity.

Finally, he cleared his throat, and Sarah looked away from where she'd been staring out the window with her chin resting on her fist. "One thing when dealing with Ellie?" Chuck said. "She likes to throw things when she's really angry. Luckily, her aim sucks."

Sarah smiled tentatively. "Thanks for the warning."

"Does…if she says yes, and she gets full disclosure into the Intersect project, does that mean that..." Chuck trailed off, cleared his throat. "Does that mean she's going to find out that they stuck me in a bunker all alone for five years?"

Sarah nodded.

"I don't want her to know." Chuck stared out at the road in front of him. Thankfully, traffic was relatively light for this hour, so the ride wouldn't drag on forever. But he didn't want to meet Sarah's gaze right now. He wasn't strong enough to face whatever he might see there, whether it be compassion or pity or even aggravation. "I can't let her know that."

"Chuck, it directly affects—"

"It's a deal-breaker."

"If she gets full disclosure—"

"Lie. Tell her that I had a team of five or six with me in seclusion. I don't want her to know that I was alone." Chuck swallowed hard. "I don't want her to live with that knowledge."

"Lying to her is what got us into this mess in the first place," Sarah said.

Chuck wanted to disagree that no, telling the higher-ups about it had been the thing that had gotten them into this mess. "This is different," he said.

"Because it's you and not the government doing the lying?"

"Because I've broken my sister's heart enough."

Sarah didn't seem to have anything to say to that. They rode along in utterly uncomfortable silence until Sarah reached forward and turned the radio on. She didn't fiddle with it as Chuck would have, so they just listened to the classic rock station without comment until Chuck pulled the car up by the pillars on either side of the apartment entrance. Sarah turned down Derek and the Dominoes and looked over at him. "Okay."

"What?"

"I won't tell Ellie you were alone in the bunker. But just so that our stories are straight, you had three others with you, and you were stationed in a small camp in Switzerland."

He could live with that. "And you visited me a few times."

Sarah hesitated before answering. "Sure. I can tell her that."

"It's partially the truth."

"Yes." Sarah twisted to retrieve her bag from the backseat. She gave him one long, sad, searching look before she took a deep breath and touched his wrist. "I'm sorry that my cover wasn't better when I got here, and that Ellie's getting dragged into this mess."

He didn't want to hear that apology, as it meant that she was already chipping through the wall of anger he felt toward both her and the government. "Let's just blame the government for that one, too," he said. "Since it's a night for pointing fingers."

"Deal. Go home, get some sleep. I'll see you at work tomorrow."

"Will you let me know Ellie's decision?"

"If she doesn't tell you herself, I will. Text me when you get home so I know you made it all right." Sarah squeezed his wrist and climbed out of the car. She strode away without looking back.

Chuck idled the car by the curb for a couple of minutes. He just didn't have the energy to pull into traffic and finish the drive home, handful of blocks away or no. In less than an hour, one of the most important women in his life would be offering the other a choice, and he hated himself for hoping that his sister would say yes.

13 NOVEMBER 2007
CASTLE: DOJO
07:24 PST


Chuck hadn't slept, even though he was exhausted. His brain simply hadn't allowed it. It had never stopped churning and moving and spitting out logic and statistics until he wanted to pound his head into the wall a few times to just get it all to stop. He hadn't dared. Doing so would wake Casey, which was the equivalent of poking a sleeping Rancor in the eye and doing the hula in drag rather than bothering to hide. So he'd laid on his back, tucked into the very corner of his room with the mattress Sarah had eventually caved and bought for him, and watched the way the shadows moved across the ceiling as the night dragged on. At around six, he had stopped fighting the inevitable, and had dragged himself downstairs to drown his sorrows in a bowl of cereal.

He'd gone through his morning routine at Castle, as he didn't feel like waiting around for Casey to come out of his bedroom and comment that he looked like crap. Tuesday meant a round of Tai Chi Quan, Chen style, a good chunk of time sweating on Castle's weight bench and with the free weights. He'd just finished up a grueling set of push-ups when he heard footsteps on the stairs. Combat boots. Must be Casey, he thought.

Indeed, the other man stepped into the dojo and raised an eyebrow. "Did you sleep at all, Bartowski?"

"No." Chuck wiped off the weight bench while Casey stretched. "Intersect flashes just fine whether or not I'm tired."

Casey grunted and began his morning stretch ritual. "Not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean?"

"We're being briefed by the higher-ups today. Sit in the back, away from the screens. It'll look less like somebody gave you a couple of shiners that way."

"Thanks, Casey." Chuck rolled his eyes and tossed the towel into the laundry receptacle by the door.

Casey grunted. "You okay, Chuck?"

"I'm fine. Just…didn't sleep well. I'm going to go shower and get started on the day's assignments since we've got briefings to worry about today."

Since Casey let that go with yet another Casey-like noise, for which there should definitely be a dictionary, Chuck shrugged to himself and headed to the showers. He peeled off his old Army T-shirt as he walked, as Sarah was still probably at her apartment sleeping like the smart part of the population. Neither she nor Ellie had called during the night. He wondered what Ellie had said, how she had reacted, how Sarah had phrased the problem for her. What was Ellie thinking now? Chuck moved into the main conference bay, heading toward the locker room.

Oh.

Sarah definitely wasn't a couple of miles away, sleeping like a sane person. Just as he hit the hallway that led back to the gun range and the locker room, she stepped out of one of the storage rooms they used for downstairs offices. Their eyes met. Her eyes dropped to his naked chest, down to the sweaty T-shirt clutched in his fist, and finally, almost reluctantly, back to meet his gaze.

He froze.

"Uh…" Sarah seemed to be blinking a lot, and he instantly felt bad. He probably reeked, covered in sweat as he was. "I was just going upstairs to file something."

Where the hell was this awkwardness coming from? "Right. And I was, ah—shower." Chuck pointed.

Sarah quickly stepped out of his way. "Right," she echoed him. "I'll, uh, let you do that, then. If you need me—"

"Upstairs, right?" Chuck asked, smiling despite the fact that his body hurt, his hands hurt worse, and every particle of him ached in some form or another. He stepped past Sarah and had almost made it to the locker room before he remembered why he was so tired. He turned.

Sarah suddenly found something on the ceiling interesting.

"What did she say?" he asked, almost too afraid to ask.

Sarah's gaze cut down to his. Her shoulders seemed to sag, though she didn't actually move. "She's thinking it over," she said. "She wanted to sleep on it."

If Ellie was anything like him, she hadn't done much sleeping.

"Oh," Chuck said. "When…when will we know?"

"Today. I'll tell you as soon as I know."

"Okay." Chuck turned without another word and headed for the showers. After an endless night, it was going to be a hell of a long day.

13 NOVEMBER 2007
CASTLE: UPSTAIRS
09:52 PST


"All right, that's it."

Chuck's nose stopped before it could complete its most recent nose-dive toward his desk, understandably so. Casey had appeared in the doorway to his office, and the look on his face usually warned of violence or a mission to come. Since there was no mission on their slate—the Prometheus team was waiting to be briefed and given new objectives—Casey's expression could only mean violence.

And since Chuck was currently the only one in his office, there was really only one target for said intended violence. He felt the attack of nerves now was more than justified.

"Get up, CIA," Casey said, striding toward his desk.

Chuck shot to his feet and tried to stumble backwards. He tripped over his chair.

Casey just grabbed him by the shoulder and hauled him away from the danger of stumbling over his own feet. "Time to go."

"Wh-what?" Chuck blinked.

Instead of replying, Casey simply opened the Scooby door and shoved Chuck through. He followed the nerd down the stairs.

"C-Casey? Where are we going?"

"Once again, I'm cleaning up the CIA's mess, obviously." Casey kept pushing and nudging until he'd walked Chuck most of the way through Castle and into one of the cells.

Chuck balked in the doorway. "Casey? Are you arresting me?"

"No." Casey pointed at the cot along the wall. "Grab a couple hours' sleep. If I let you talk to the higher-ups looking like you do right now, Walker and I are both in trouble, so do us all a favor and get some damned rest."

And he stood in the doorway of the cell, arms crossed, waiting.

"Um, I'm not going to sleep with you just standing there watching me like that." Chuck scowled. "And I'm fine, I don't need sleep—"

Casey merely reached out and poked him in the shoulder. Chuck staggered backwards and stumbled into the cot, his arms flailing. When he opened his mouth to argue, Casey raised an eyebrow.

"Fine," Chuck said. "An hour."

"Two."

"Ninety minutes."

"Fine."

"And tell Sarah I want to know the instant my sister calls."

Casey rolled his eyes, but since Chuck was busy taking off his shoes, he just muttered something about being reduced to carrying messages and playing nursemaid for the damned CIA. Chuck thought he heard something about the Khyber Pass as the other man stalked away.

Mindful that Casey was now the dragon at the gates, and that Sarah would probably back him up, Chuck had no choice but to lay down, even though his head was spinning with the amount of work left to do. A full load of Intersect-related files to review, as well as a cross-current search on dead Phillip Dartmoors, and he'd finally gotten clearance to hack into the gift store security footage at Stanford and see if he could find Bryce buying the Stanford tee he'd been wearing at the game. That was on top of in-depth briefings, both from Sarah over what she'd learned the day before in DC and from the higher-ups that would be coming this afternoon. Sleeping now would generally be a waste of time.

He was out within twenty seconds.

All too soon, he opened his eyes to see Sarah sitting on the edge of his cot, her eyebrows high. "So that's why Casey's so grumpy," she said while he blinked at her in confusion. "You made him get in touch with the emotions the rest of us mere mortals have to suffer through."

Chuck pushed his hands against his face. He felt better, marginally—well, actually, he just felt less like crap. "How long was I out?"

Sarah checked her watch. "About two and a half hours, give or take."

"What?" That shot him to full wakefulness, though he didn't sit up. Not enough energy for that. "Casey said ninety minutes!"

"And you listened to him?" Sarah shook her head. "You needed the rest, Chuck."

"But—but there's so much to do—"

"There's always so much to do. It'll get done when it gets done." Sarah's smile faded. "You could probably do with at least another hour, but there's no time. Ellie's here."

Chuck bolted upright on the cot, glancing wildly about the cell as if expecting his sister to magically teleport in. "Where?"

"Relax. I left her upstairs in my office. She wants to tell both of us her decision together."

Everything inside Chuck just stopped moving again. "You already know," he said, watching Sarah's face closely. She was apparently struggling to meet his eyes, never a good sign. "You know what she's going to say."

Sarah moved a shoulder and looked away. "I'm trained to recognize body language, Chuck. It's kind of hard to miss with her."

"There's really going to be no way to change her mind," Chuck said, rubbing his hand across his chin and down his throat.

"Probably not. Seems like a general Bartowski trait to me. C'mon." Sarah patted his knee and rose to her feet.

"You want me to come with?"

"She wants to tell us both at the same time, remember? And you don't want to miss your sister's first briefing, do you?"

Chuck tilted his head to look up at her. "You mean, I get to be in on it?"

Sarah, already to the door, paused and gave him an odd look. "Why wouldn't you be?"

"Well, you didn't exactly seem to want me there when you were offering her the job."

"I had my reasons." Sarah leaned back against the door jamb to wait while Chuck pulled on his shoes and adjusted his tie, taking his time to go through the motions. Every second used was a second put off, a second where he wouldn't have to go upstairs and face his sister and her decision to potentially throw away her life. He could feel Sarah's eyes on him the whole time, and knew that she knew exactly what he was doing.

She didn't say anything.

When Chuck finally rose to his feet and nodded, she gave him a sad look. "Ready for this?"

"No." He sighed. "But let's get it over with anyway."

Together, they headed upstairs to where Ellie waited.

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