Author's Note: I appreciate each one of you who chooses to read my stories and leave a review, I really and truly do. However, reviews that simply state "Please update" are not going to move the story along any faster, and here's why:
1) In real life, I'm the pastor of a church. That means that the time since my last update has been rather busy. We had a little holiday we like to call "Easter" this last Sunday, and that made my life a little hectic for a bit.
2) I'm getting married in five weeks. I've got a lot on my plate with that, too, including my bachelor party this weekend.
So, I will try to update as much as I can, but if you're going to leave a review, please leave an actual review. If you'd like to know when I'm going to update, send me a private message, and I'll happily fill you in on what's going on and when you might expect the next update.
In the meantime, enjoy the story, and I'll try to keep updating whenever I can!
Chapter 3 – Afterlife
Bum-bum-BA-ba-du-dum-ba-bum-bum-bum-dum-bum-dum
All was blackness.
Bum-bum-BA-ba-du-dum-ba-bum-bum-bum-dum-bum-dum
His head pounded to the rhythm of the thirteen notes.
Bum-bum-BA-ba-du-dum-ba-bum-bum-bum-dum-bum-dum
He tried to open his eyes, but the seemed held down by enormous weights.
Bum-bum-BA-ba-du-dum-ba-bum-bum-bum-dum-bum-dum
He knew that noise. What was it?
Bum-bum-BA-ba-du-dum-ba-bum-bum-bum-dum-bum-dum
It was an iPhone. The iOS 7 default ringtone. Where was it coming from?
Bum-bum-BA-ba-du-du-
It stopped. Mercifully. Now, he could get some rest –
Bum-bum-BA-ba-du-dum-ba-bum-bum-bum-dum-bum-dum
GODDAMMIT.
7:52 A.M., Pacific Daylight Time
Thursday, April 3rd, 2014
Newport Beach, California
With an almighty groan, Chuck Bartowski wrenched his eyes open and forced himself to sit up. Reaching up, he grabbed the offending iPhone off of the dining room table and answered it. "WHAT?!"
Whatever the caller on the other end had to say in reaction to his snarl was drowned out by the shouts of two very concerned toddlers. "DADDY! DADDY!" Lisa and John both wailed as they grabbed him.
"It's okay, kids, Daddy's okay," Chuck lied, fighting off the pounding in his head. "Daddy needs to use the phone."
"Your house is crashed."
"Well hello to you, too, Casey," Chuck grumbled. "I'm doing fine in spite of being shot, thanks."
The other end of the line was silent for a moment. "You were SHOT?!" John Casey finally exploded. "What the hell?!"
Chuck sighed. "It was Sarah," he replied. "Somebody came to the door, and I think they activated something in her head. She said 'Hail Hydra' and then shot me with a night-night bullet."
"So you didn't crash your house, then."
"Little hard to do when I'm unconscious, Casey."
"Then who did it?"
9:55 A.M., Central Daylight Time
Chicago, Illinois
"DOCTOR WOODCOMB! TURN OFF YOUR CAR AND STEP OUT, RIGHT NOW!"
"Not awesome," Devon growled. Glaring at the two Chevy Impalas blocking his exit, he began to think – what was the likelihood that, if he dropped the BMW into first gear and floored it, he could not only avoid getting shot but also manage to smash the two Chevys out of the way –
Devon's train of thought was interrupted by somebody doing precisely what he had planned to do, except in reverse. A blue Ford Crown Victoria came howling through the exit, shredded its tires on the stop strip by the "Do Not Enter" sign, and barreled at high speed into the noses of the two Chevrolets, knocking them out of the way, plowing over the machine gun toting henchmen, and clearing a path that would be feasibly wide enough for a BMW to drive through.
Devon raised an eyebrow. "Okay, THAT's awesome," he said, flooring the accelerator and bursting through the hole left by the now-mangled Crown Vic. As he blasted past the carnage, he caught a glimpse of somebody bailing through the driver's window of the Ford, somebody who appeared to be –
"Bryce Larkin?!"
The accelerator came up, the brake pedal went to the floor, and the BMW fishtailed to a halt. Bryce came jogging up to the shotgun window as Devon rolled it down. "What the hell, bro?"
"I'll explain in a minute," Bryce said, nervously eyeing one of the gunmen, who was starting to stir. "In the meantime, we need to get the hell out of here."
"That's a big ten-four," Devon replied, unlocking the doors. Bryce wrenched open the passenger door and climbed in. "DRIVE."
Devon didn't have to be told twice, slamming the gas back down before Bryce's door was even shut. The CIA agent was thrown backward in his seat as Devon skidded out onto the street, narrowly avoiding a garbage truck. "What the hell are you doing here, bro?" Devon asked, not taking his eyes off the road.
"Saving your ass, for starters," Bryce shot back.
Devon shook his head. "No, man, in Chicago. How long have you been here?"
Bryce shrugged. "Well, you and Ellie moved here in 2012, so… two years?"
Devon slowly turned his head and stared. "Two years?"
"Yeah," Bryce said with a nod. "When you and Ellie moved here, Chuck asked me to follow you two and keep an eye… um, the road?"
Devon's eyes snapped back to the road, and just in time, as he yanked the wheel to steer around a Buick that was going much slower than he was. "You moved here when we did."
"Yes, and I just got a pop up on my phone saying that the house in Newport Beach had been crashed –"
"Yeah, that was me."
"- and I figured you might be in…" Bryce stopped. "What do you mean, that was you?"
"I got a call from Lisa about ten minutes ago," Devon replied, weaving between lanes of traffic. "She said that Sarah shot Chuck, so I crashed the house."
"SARAH SHOT CHUCK?!"
"Hold on," Chuck said to Casey. Looking at his phone, he pulled up the call log –
"Lisa, John, did one of you call Uncle Devon?"
Lisa nodded. "I called him when Mommy made you go to sleep."
Chuck smiled grimly. "That's my girl," he said. "Casey?" he said, returning the phone to his ear. "It looks like Lisa called Devon, and he crashed the house."
"What the hell… hold on."
Chuck heard a commotion in the background of the call, and then Casey said, "Chuck, I'm putting you on speaker. We've got a situation."
"Chuck?" It was a new voice – Gertrude Verbinski's. "I just got a text from Bryce Larkin."
"Oh, hell," Chuck sighed. Yet another thread was being pulled out. "My life is turning into a Weezer song."
Dead silence on the other end. Finally, Casey spoke up. "Uh, what?"
"If you want to destroy my sweater – or in this case, my life – just pull the thread – you know what, never mind," Chuck said. "Brush up on some pop culture, Casey. Jesus."
"Riiiight," Gertrude said slowly. "Let's be real, that's not gonna happen. Anyway. The text from Bryce."
"Yeah. Devon and Ellie?"
"They're okay. Bryce apparently pulled Devon's nuts out of the fire in the parking garage at the hospital, and they're on their way to rendezvous with Ellie at a pre-arranged meeting point." Gertrude paused. "Also, it seems that Devon is none too pleased that you've had Bryce clandestinely keeping watch over them for the last two years."
"Good damn thing I did," Chuck grumbled.
Casey grunted. Grunt number thirty-seven, Chuck though. Tentative agreement. "You might be right," Casey said, confirming Chuck's assessment of the grunt, "but it's fair for him to be pissed off. I mean, wouldn't you be?"
"Casey, now is not the time for a debate on ethics," Chuck snapped, his patience finally reaching its limits. "My house is crashed, Sarah's apparently been compromised by Hydra – which, what the hell is Hydra, anyway?"
"Pseudo-Nazi paramilitary organization that we thought died in World War II," Gertrude replied. "We suspect they've infiltrated the government, because Casey popped two S.H.I.E.L.D. agents trying to storm our property."
"Well, that's not good."
"No shit, Sherlock," Casey growled. "We've got a bigger problem than that, though. I can't un-crash your house without Hydra, or S.H.I.E.L.D., or whatever the hell they are –"
"Let's just call them the bad guys."
"Fine. Without the bad guys compromising my security protocols. I can't get through to Vivian Volkoff for the same reasons."
Chuck sighed. "We can't hole up in here forever, Casey," he replied. "We gotta get out. I mean, why should I wait till I die?"
"Nobody's just asking you to sit around waiting for the afterlife, Bartowski," Casey said. "I do have an idea to get you out of there… but I don't know if you're gonna like it."
"Not like it?" Chuck frowned. "Casey, how could I possibly be opposed to something that's going to get me and the kids out of here?"
"Wellll… because it's been some time since you were on speaking terms with the individual in question."
"Not on speaking terms…" Chuck's voice trailed off. "Oh. Oh, no. Oh, come on, Casey. I'd rather you bust Beckman out of the penitentiary and have her get us out."
"Hey, look, you're lucky she's even in California. Let me give her a call. She can be there in fifteen minutes."
Chuck sighed. "You're a sadistic bastard sometimes, John Casey."
12:30 P.M., Pacific Daylight Time
Friday, October 21st, 2011
Santa Monica, California
"Soooo… the wedding's off."
Chuck nearly choked on his sandwich. "What do you mean, the wedding's off?"
Veronica looked down at her salad and listlessly poked at it with her fork. "I mean, Logan and I aren't getting married."
"Are you kidding me?!" Chuck stared at Veronica in disbelief. "After everything… I mean… Jesus, Veronica, he invaded Canada to save you from Fulcrum!"
"You were there, too," Veronica said.
"Exactly my point!" Chuck exclaimed. "Sarah invaded right alongside Logan, and now look! We're married and we have twins!"
Veronica shook her head. "Chuck, that's the thing. I don't think that Logan and I are cut out for the domestic life. This epic love bullshit, with lives ruined, blood shed – it just doesn't work. Neither of us is meant to settle down."
Chuck rolled his eyes. "What a cop out."
"Excuse me?!" Veronica snapped. "This is the point where, as my friend, you're supposed to say, 'Oh, wow, that sucks, but I'm here for you,' blah, blah, blah."
"Your friends are also supposed to tell you when you're screwing your life up, Veronica! I mean, you and I both know that Logan loves –"
"Logan slept with Carrie Bishop."
Chuck stopped dead in his tracks. "He did what?"
Veronica sighed. "He cheated on me."
"I got that," Chuck replied. "He cheated on you with Carrie Bishop? As in 'Bonnie DeVille' Carrie Bishop?"
"That would be the one," Veronica said, narrowing her eyes. "Apparently, in spite of the love spanning years and continents, if some little pop tart trots it out in front of Logan, he can't pass it up."
"Again, I get it," Chuck said. "But let's not forget what you just mentioned – Canada."
Veronica frowned. "What does Canada have to do with anything?"
"Well…" Chuck hesitated. "I mean, you and I… well, I was engaged to Sarah, and you and I…"
"Fucked like bunnies?"
Chuck sighed. "Um, sure. I was trying to put it more tastefully –"
"Chuck, we were under duress. Our lives were literally at stake if we didn't. That is TOTALLY different."
"I know that!" Chuck shot back. "I'm just saying, you and I both know that Sarah was still really hurt by it. She stuck with me nonetheless."
Veronica stared at Chuck in disbelief. "Chuck Bartowski, I cannot believe even for one minute that you are actually comparing the two situations."
Chuck shook his head. "I'm not comparing them. I'm just saying, keep in mind, there might have been extenuating circu-"
"Yeah, I'm just gonna stop you right there," Veronica growled. "I will not sit here while you justify Logan's philandering as a means to talk me into still marrying him."
And that was when Chuck made his fatal mistake. "Veronica, we both know that you are lost without Logan Echolls –"
"Oh, FUCK you," Veronica bellowed, violently standing up and knocking her chair over backwards. "I will NOT sit here and have you mansplain my life to me, Chuck. I thought you were better than that."
"Veronica, I'm sor-"
"I don't care. I really don't. You like Logan so much, why don't you go suck his dick, because apparently I'm not doing it enough for him."
And with that, Veronica Mars stormed off. "Shit," Chuck sighed.
"Look, Bartowski, just because you were an idiot two and a half years ago does not diminish the fact that you are in a heap of trouble right now and need all the help you can get."
"Oh, well, thank you, Casey," Chuck said sardonically. "Listen, I've got a nasty skin abrasion where Sarah's night-night bullet hit me. Would you like to come rub some salt in it?"
"Bartowski, stop being an ass."
Chuck took a deep breath. "Yeah… you're right," he sighed. "Fine. But I'm not calling her."
"Oh, for Christ's sake," Casey sighed. "You don't have a choice in the matter. I told you, I'm pretty sure my line is compromised."
"I'm not sure she'll even talk to me –"
"GROW UP, DAMMIT, BARTOWSKI. Your kids' lives are at stake. Sarah's life is at stake!"
Chuck closed his eyes and sighed. "You're right, Casey," he finally said. "Alright. I'll do it."
8:01 A.M., Pacific Daylight Time
Neptune, California
Veronica had just unlocked the door of the office and made her way inside when the phone started ringing. Dumping her purse on the desk, she reached over it and grabbed the phone. "Mars Investigations."
"Veronica, it's Chuck –"
"Oh, HEY, ASSHOLE!" she snarled. "Long time, no see!"
Chuck was silent for a moment. "I deserved that."
"Yes, you most certainly did," Veronica grumbled. "Now why on earth are you calling me?"
"We're in a lot of trouble," Chuck said. "Something happened to Sarah, the kids and I are stuck in the house, and some organization called Hydra has infiltrated the government and is going after the family."
Veronica frowned. "Chuck, I'm not sure what you expect me to do," she said. "I'm not FBI anymore."
"I know that," he replied. "But you've got contacts. Resources."
"Yes, yes I do," she said. "Okay. I'll help you, Chuck. Not for you. For family. And then you and I are gonna have a long talk."
"That's fine," Chuck said. "I will have as long a talk with you as you want, as long as you help us."
Veronica nodded. "Of course I will," she replied, "as soon as you say one thing to me."
Chuck was silent for a moment. "I don't understand."
"Oh, I think you do. Think about it, Intersect-boy."
There was another moment of silence. "Oh, COME ON. You can't be serious. At a time like this?"
"You need my help, I want to hear it," Veronica answered him, a sadistic grin crossing her face.
"I can't believe I'm doing this," Chuck grumbled at the other end. "Fine. Help me, Veronica Mars, you're my only hope."
"I'm on my way."
with
ZACHARY LEVI as Chuck Bartowski
ADAM BALDWIN as John Casey
RYAN McPARTLIN as Devon Woodcomb
MATTHEW BOMER as Bryce Larkin
CARRIE-ANNE MOSS as Gertrude Verbinski
and KRISTEN BELL as Veronica Mars