I've had an abstract idea for this fic in my head ever since I watched the Chuck finally, and several weeks ago it very suddenly solidified into something I could write down, so I dropped everything and 12 hours later I hadn't moved from my computer or even registered that time had passed, but the story was complete and polished. I've sat on it for so long and not posted it because I find myself oddly attached to this fic and I wasn't sure I was ready to put it out into the world yet. But ultimately, it is a story that I want to tell and share with more people, so I've finally decided to post.

Please be kind in your reviews.

Sarah is jolted awake by the blaring of an alarm. Still half asleep, her hand instinctively reaches into her nightstand for her gun before she remembers she doesn't keep one there anymore. As the fog of sleep clears from her mind, she realizes the alarm is coming from the smoke detector in the hall. The room is dark, the first rays of sunlight only just starting to peek through the curtains. She rolls over carefully to wake Chuck, but his side of the bed is empty. Her heart sinks.

Sarah sits up carefully, sliding her legs out from under the covers and putting on her slippers. She takes her housecoat from the end of the bed and pulls it on, wincing at the stiffness in her right shoulder from an old knife wound that never properly healed. She starts to stand, but her knee gives out and she sinks quickly back to the bed. Reluctantly, she reaches for her cane, leaning on it heavily as she gets to her feet.

She makes her way out of the bedroom and down the hall. The wall is adorned with dozens of framed pictures chronicling her life with Chuck. Their first picture as a "couple" from the Halloween party hangs amongst pictures from their wedding, from first opening Carmichael Industries, and from when they renewed their vows after Sarah's memories were stolen by the Intersect. As she makes her way towards the kitchen the pictures become more recent. Morgan and Alex's wedding, Sarah's maternity photos, Chuck holding their son Stephen for the first time. Then there are the Little League games and science fairs, the three of them dressed as superheroes ready to attended little Stevie's first Comic Con, Sarah teaching him taekwondo, family vacations with Ellie and Devon and their kids, graduations, Stephen's wedding, grandkids, and the most recent picture, taken just last year, of Sarah and Chuck kissing in front of the Eiffel Tower on their 40th wedding anniversary. Sarah lets her fingers trail along the edge of the frame as she passes it into the kitchen.

A kettle is smoking on the stove, water long boiled away. She turns off the element and puts the kettle in the sink. She opens the door to the backyard and fresh air wafts into the room. She goes back into the hall and, bracing herself on the wall, stretches up gingerly to use the end of her cane to press the reset on the smoke detector. With the alarm silenced, she crosses the kitchen to the stairs that lead down to the basement.

"Chuck?" she calls out as she makes her way down. There's no answer, but she can hear him moving around. She crosses the family room and opens the door to his workroom. "Chuck, what are you doing down here so early?" she asks, eyes adjusting to the dim lighting.

The room is filled with workbenches and computers in various states of repair, wires and components spilling out of boxes and covering every available surface. Chuck's beloved Tron poster hangs on the back wall alongside his degree from Stanford. Chuck stands up from behind a stack of boxes holding a pair of wire strippers and a partially dismantled tablet. He blinks at Sarah in surprise and gives her a questioning look.

Sarah smiles at him, at his rumpled, if thinning, hair and his bright intelligent eyes. The years of stress have taken their toll on him, but to Sarah he's still the most handsome man she's ever laid eyes on.

"Sarah! Did you need something? What's wrong?" he asks. He fiddles with the tablet in his hand, sending up little sparks as he pulls out another wire.

"I woke up and you weren't there. Why are you up?" she asks him. "It's 5 in the morning, you should be in bed."

"It's the Intersect, Sarah, I don't think it's working properly," Chuck explains quickly, going back to tinkering with the tablet as he talks. "I haven't flashed in weeks, who knows what kind of intelligence we've been missing!" He overturns another box of components and sifts through the contents. "If I can just get this tablet modified I should be able to run a diagnostic…" He trails off as he finds the part he needs and sits in his chair, full attention on the task at hand.

Sarah closes her eyes briefly and takes a shaky breath before moving around the workbench and kneeling beside his chair. He glances at her quickly but continues soldering something in the tablet. "Chuck…" she says quietly.

"I've got it under control, Sarah, don't worry about a thing," he assures her. "I'll have the Intersect back up and running before you know it."

"Chuck, honey, look at me," she says, gently taking his hands away from the tools. He turns to face her, puzzled. "Sweetheart, there's nothing wrong with the Intersect," she says.

"But I haven't flashed and -!" he starts to argue, but Sarah interrupts him.

"There's nothing wrong with the Intersect," she insists. "You haven't flashed because the Intersect was removed from your head seven years ago."

Chuck frowns, confused. "But our spy work…?"

"You helped the CIA create a new Intersect, remember?" she explains patiently. "You continued your father's work. Now there are lots of young agents running around with computers in their heads, saving the world just like we did. They wiped the Intersect from your brain so we could retire. Do you remember?"

Chuck shakes his head slightly and blinks, and Sarah can almost see the fog clearing from his mind.

"Yes. Yes, that's right," he says, some clarity returning to his voice. "I, I don't know what came over me. Of course, the Intersect is gone. How could I forget?" He turns and looks at Sarah apologetically. "You must think I some crazy old fool!" he laughs. "Why would a beautiful girl like you ever stay with a guy like me?"

She smiles despite her concern and reaches her hand up to his face, her thumb gently stroking his cheek. She stretches up to kiss him. "But you're my crazy old fool," she whispers to him just before their lips meet. "Always will be."

"I found him, Sarah," Morgan says on the other end of the phone. "He's at the BuyMore again."

Sarah breathes a sigh of relief. "Thank you Morgan. I'll be right there. Keep an eye on him until I get there, okay?"

"Of course," Morgan replies.

She hangs up and tucks her cell back in her jacket pocket. She walks out of the courtyard of their old apartment complex and back to where she'd hastily parked her car. When she came home from the grocery store and discovered Chuck was missing she'd been fairly sure of where he would go, but she'd stopped here on the way just in case. Morgan lived closer to the BuyMore so he was able to get there faster, anyways.

Sarah gets into her car and starts the engine. Her hand shakes as she reaches to put the car in drive, and she chokes back a sob. She takes a deep breath to compose herself and wipes a tear from her cheek with the back of her hand. She pulls out onto the street, following the familiar route to the BuyMore. It's a Sunday afternoon and traffic is sparse, so she makes good time. As she backs into a parking space she catches sight of herself in the rearview mirror. Her grey hair is pulled back into a loose braid, and behind her glasses laugh lines frame her blue eyes, now reddened from crying. She takes a tissue out of her purse to dry the tears from her lashes and puts on a brave face before stepping out of the car.

Morgan greets her just inside the doors. "He's in the home theatre room again," he tells her. "Keeps demanding that they let him into Castle, asking where the trap door went."

Sarah nods and starts toward the back of the store, but Morgan puts out a hand to stop her.

"Sarah, this is the third time this month," he says. "It's not safe for him to keep running off on his own like this."

"I'm doing the best I can!" Sarah snaps.

"I know, I know," Morgan says, squeezing her arm. "You've been amazing, but Sarah, he's getting worse. You need help."

"I can't ask Stephen for help," she replies. "He lives on the other side of the country, and he's got his family, his medical practice. It wouldn't be fair to ask that of him."

"I don't mean Stephen," Morgan says, giving her a pointed look.

Sarah's jaw tightens. "No. Absolutely not," she bites out. "For years the CIA wanted to lock him away but I wouldn't let them. Now you expect me to put him in a home? To abandon him after everything we've been through?" Tears well up in her eyes again, but she doesn't let them fall. "I will never, ever, leave him, Morgan. He is staying with me."

"Okay, okay. It's okay, Sarah, I understand," Morgan soothes, gently rubbing her arm. "Lets go get our boy."

He leads the way back to the home theatre room, where a BuyMore employee is warily standing guard at the door. Inside Sarah can hear Chuck talking to someone, clearly agitated. When she and Morgan step through the door he turns away from the frazzled looking store manager and a smile lights his face.

"Sarah! Morgan!" he says, relieved, and rushes over to them. "Maybe you can convince this dumbass over here that he made a terrible mistake boarding up the trap door. He's lucky I'm the one that discovered it and not Casey! Can you imagine? Ha! Lets head over to the yogurt shop, I need to get into Castle." He starts to brush past them but Sarah blocks his way.

"Chuck, sweetie, there is no Castle," she tells him gently. He looks at her confused and opens his mouth to protest, but she stops him. "Chuck, you're retired. Operation Bartowski is over. Carmichael Industries no longer exists. The CIA dismantled the base."

Chuck frowns, not understanding. "But Casey needs me, I have information for him. He needs to hear this," he insists.

Morgan comes to stand beside him. "No, man, he doesn't. We need to get you home." He takes Chuck's arm and starts leading him to the door, Sarah close behind.

"No no no," Chuck argues, "I need to talk to Casey. Where's Casey?"

Morgan glances at Sarah over his shoulder as they walk through the sliding doors into the parking lot. She can feel her chin quivering and tears roll down her cheeks. Chuck stops and turns to face them both.

"What's going on?" he asks. "Sarah, what's wrong?"

"Chuck, Casey… he…" but she can't finish.

Morgan clears his throat and puts his hand comfortingly on Chuck's shoulder. "He died, Chuck. Casey died last year. A heart-attack. Do you remember?"

Chuck looks shell-shocked. "What?" he chokes out, looking to Sarah for confirmation. "He's gone? Casey's gone?"

"Yes, sweetheart, he's gone," Sarah says, her voice cracking. This is the seventh time they've had to tell him since it happened, and it never gets any easier.

Chuck turns back to Morgan. "Oh my god. I can't believe it. He always seemed so invincible, like he was going to live forever," he says. "And Morgan! Oh my god, he was your father in law. Buddy, I am so sorry!" He reaches out and pulls Morgan into a tight hug.

"Thanks, buddy," Morgan says, patting his best friend on the back. "Now lets get you home, okay?"

The two continue to the car, arms around each other's shoulders, and for just a moment Sarah sees the two young friends she first met so many years ago, always there for each other, backing each other up and getting into trouble. Seeing them like this, right now, it's almost as if nothing has changed.

"Who the hell are you?!"

At the sound of Chuck's raised voice, Sarah rushes into the bedroom. Chuck is sitting up in bed, glaring at their son who is in the armchair by the window looking shocked and hurt.

"Dad, it's me, Stephen," he says. "I'm your son."

"What are you talking about? I don't have a son!" Chuck bellows. "This must be some kind of Fulcrum trick! Get out of here, I won't let you hurt Sarah!"

Sarah hurries over to the bed. "Sweetheart, Chuck, honey, hey, it's alright. I'm here," she says, reaching out a calming hand to stroke his cheek. "Stephen is a friend. He's not going to hurt us, I promise. It's alright."

"Sarah?" he says, as if surprised to see her. She can feel his heartbeat racing and see the panic in his eyes. "What's going on? I don't- Who is he? Why does he say he's my son? What's going on? I'm so confused." Tears of desperation start to tickle from his eyes. Sarah reaches into the nightstand and grabs the syringe she prepared earlier, carefully injecting him with the mild sedative.

"It's okay, darling, just lay back. Close your eyes, rest," she tells him. "I'm here now."

"Yes, you're here now," Chuck repeats dazedly. "And you'll protect me. You won't let anything happen to me."

"That's right," she says, placing a kiss on his forehead as he drifts off to sleep. "I will never let anything happen to you."

She turns to Stephen and motions for him to follow her out of the room. Once in the hall she pulls him into her arms and he bursts into tears. It breaks her heart to see him, her brilliant, strong, grown-up son in so much pain.

"Shhh, shhh," she says, rubbing his back, "I know, Stevie, I'm so sorry baby."

"One second we were talking and the next- Mom, he doesn't even know who I am anymore!" he gulps out. "He hates me."

She reaches up and gently takes his face in her hands, forcing him to meet her eyes. "Stephen Charles Bartowski, your father loves you more than anything in this world. Don't you ever believe otherwise. It's only the illness talking when he says those things."

Stephen sniffs and wipes at the tears on his face. "How do you do it, Mom?" he asks. "How do you live every day never knowing if he'll remember you?"

Sarah smiles sadly. "Because, baby, he did the same for me."

The sun is just peeking over the horizon as Sarah helps Chuck lower himself to sit on the sand before settling in beside him. They are silent for a while, watching the seagulls glide lazily through the air, swooping down to pluck things from the waves washing gently up to the shore. The breeze coming off the ocean is cool, and Sarah feels Chuck shiver beside her. She pulls a light blanket out of her bag and wraps it around his shoulders. He looks over at her and smiles.

"This place is wonderful," he says. "Thank you for bringing me. It feels so familiar. Have I been here before?"

She smiles sadly, watching the sun make its way higher into the sky. She nods. "Yes. You've been here a few times," she answers him. "It's a very special place." A tear rolls down her cheek, and he reaches out to wipe it away.

"What's wrong?" he asks her, absently pushing a stray lock of hair back behind her ear. She closes her eyes, enjoying the moment before turning to face him.

"Nothing," she replies, "I was just remembering some things."

He grins at her then, the same grin that melted her heart the day she met him so many years ago. "You are so beautiful," he says. He turns to look back out over the ocean. "You remind me so much of my Sarah. Maybe I'll introduce you to her sometime. She is the love of my life."

She smiles through her tears and whispers quietly, "And you are the love of mine."