Author's Note…sorry…there may be more cursing than I intended.

Now:

Roark Tower, California

"How the fuck did this happen?"

Vincent rolls his shoulders as he carefully phrases his response to a livid Ted Roark seated behind a giant glass desk. This whole operation was a failure. Roark should never have sent in Delgado after Leader's failure. He was a loose canon. If Vincent hadn't been pre-occupied with Orion, he'd like to think this shit wouldn't have happened. But of course now, his main leverage against Orion is presumed dead.

"It is unknown. As stated, we lost all communication with the base at 21 hundred hours. Until we get our hands on the CIA reports, we won't know more. Unless we are able to make contact with Delgado."

"The Intersect?" Roark presses.

Vincent tries not to wince.

"All files are gone. The computer network was wiped."

Smash. A shower of file folders and picture frames crash to the floor. The litany of cursing that follows is expected. Vincent stands at attention and takes it.

When Roark regains a measure of calm, Vincent asks, "What are our next steps?"

"Recall every project Bartowski was working on. While we've lost the goose, there maybe gold droppings he left behind. Send proxy projects to the FBI liaison. We wouldn't want his work in the wrong hands."

"Yes, sir." Vincent gives a curt nod before turning and exiting.

CIA BUNKER, Location Unknown:

Oh god. It hurts. Chuck thinks he now knows what Han felt waking up at from the carbon freeze. There's a constant pressure pushing in at all points around his head. The concept of time and place are a fuzzy afterthought.

There's a soft rustle in the distance. Chuck groans. The faint sound translates as a row of timpani drums. It's then that he hears the low and steady beeping.

Chuck slowly cracks his eyes open to a white room. The brightness almost makes him close his eyes again. A hazy figure approaches. Chuck tries to focus, but struggles. A feeling of urgency makes itself known. There's something he should be worried about. The beeping increases in tempo.

The figure solidifies into a dark-haired woman in scrubs.

"Everything is fine. You need to calm down." The woman says.

Ellie? What's Ellie doing here?

The beeps grow closer together.

No. Not Ellie. Ellie's not here…danger. She's in danger! Chuck needs to get up. He needs to warn Ellie. But the woman is closer. There's something in her hand. A needle. She's inches from the bed, picking up a tube. Chuck catches the writing on the needle and…

A purple flower.

Bacteria Culture

Boiling Test Tubes.

Bodies on the Floor

A purple flower.

….flash across his mind and with it a flood of information. Chuck's fuzzy brain is only able to comprehend preferred CIA sedative before he passes out.

CIA Bunker Conference Room, Sometime Later:

Sarah and Bryce sit at attention at a small conference table across from Director Graham. Sarah's exhaustion goes bone-deep. The mission has been non-stop since attempting to aide Casey, finding Chuck Bartowski and escaping Fulcrum's underground fortress.

Upon reaching the CIA Bunker, Bartowski was whisked away by a team of doctors while Sarah, Casey and Bryce went straight into a very long debrief with both General Beckman and Langston Graham.

Now, four hours later, Sarah and Bryce are debriefing again in private.

"And the intersect files?" Graham asks.

Sarah turns to look at Bryce. The man looks down at the table and runs a hand wearily through his hair. If Bryce can't mask the exhaustion, she knows she can't be fairing well either in the attempt.

"Destroyed." Bryce responds.

Graham stares at Bryce.

"There wasn't time to do more than wipe everything. Casey dismantled the internal and external security systems."

Sarah takes in the hint of tension in Bryce's voice. He lied. Bryce just lied. Again. Did it have to do with the thumb drive he was fingering in the van on the way in?

Bryce's shoulders are tense. "There's no evidence Chuck survived the upload. Fulcrum doesn't know."

"Sir?" Sarah interrupts. "What will happen to Bartowski?"

Graham purses his lips. "It seems we will have to see if the upload was successful when Bartowski regains consciousness again. Doctor Williams reported sustained brain swelling, but no continued signs of hemorrhaging. We can expect to test him tomorrow after the Fulcrum drugs have passed through his system."

Sarah takes in Bryce's reaction from the corner of her eye.

"Larkin, what is the probability Bartowski will cooperate?" Graham asks.

Bryce gives a small smile. "If there's one thing you can expect from Chuck is the general desire to do what's right. He doesn't have a bad bone in his body."

"Good." Graham nods.

Several Hours Later, CIA Bunker

It's all a lie.

Blood is everywhere. It's on his hands. It's on her clothes. Her neck. Her face. Her eyes. Her beautiful eyes are closed. He sobs.

You try that shit again, and your sister is dead.

Ellie!

Chuck opens his eyes and tries to take a deep breath. He's back in the white room…hospital?

There's a counter across the room covered in sorted baskets of medical supplies. There's a small door and a nurse seated in a chair typing away at a laptop in her lap.

It's so bright. Everything is white down to the scrubs the nurse is in. Her brown hair is the only pop of color he can see.

His head feels prickly internally and externally. Is he turning into Sonic?

Slowly, he slides a hand up to his head. He spreads his fingers out around tiny little discs attached to his skin. A small wire is attached to each one.

"Mr. Carmichael. Those need to stay on." Chuck is startled. The laptop lies closed on the chair. The nurse is right in front of him.

Chuck licks his chapped lips. "My name's not Carmichael."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Carmichael, you were checked in under this name for your own safety." She states. The nurse moves in to check his vitals.

It's weird. It's the first time in…a long time?…that someone else is talking to him other than Tommy. Oh god.

"Where's Tommy?" Chuck blurts out.

The nurse pauses. "I'm sorry. I don't know who that is."

Chuck's stomach sinks. He's so dead.

If you try to escape, I'll pay a personal visit to everyone left in your family.

"What happened? What's going on? Where's my sister?" Chuck stutters.

The nurse sighs and starts to adjust the wires around his head.

"Mr. Carmichael, you have nothing to worry about. You were rescued yesterday. Everything is going to be fine."

No. Chuck thinks. Nothing is going to be fine. The last thing he remembers is Jill's lifeless body and Tommy whispering into his ear.

Nothing's fine because he doesn't know where Tommy is. If Tommy thinks he tried to escape… your sister is dead.

"I need to call my sister." Chuck puts a little emotion behind his statement.

"Again, I'm sorry Mr. Carmichael, but no phone calls. "

He's got to warn Ellie. And to do that, he's got to get out of here. He needs a plan. The nurse moves to the side to look at the machine connected to his head. Taking the opportunity he scans the room again. He stops when he sees the baskets of syringes lined up on the counter. Preferred CIA sedative pops into his head. What the hell? Where the hell did that come from?

A hand touches his shoulder and Chuck jumps. He looks up at the Nurse.

"Would you like some water?" The nurse asks, probably for the second time. Chuck's eyes look back at the counter. Sedative. A sedative he could work with.

"Actually? Do you think I could use the little boy's room?" Chuck whispers.

"Of course. It's over there." The nurse nods towards the small door by the counter.

She unplugs the wires attached to his head from the machine by his bed and gently lets the wires rest behind him as she helps him carefully out of bed.

Chuck feels unsteady on his feet, like he's forgotten how to walk. The nurse hovers by his side as he makes baby steps towards the bathroom. With each small step, he gains confidence.

As Chuck nears the counter by the bathroom door, he lists to the side knocking over the baskets of medicine resting on top. He presses both hands on the counter to steady himself. A hand closes around one of the spilled syringes.

The nurse steps in to steady him. Chuck looks down and his eyes flutter…and a series of images and information flood his senses. He's unnerved when he realizes he knows that pentothal….pentothal is a truth serum. Uh…definitely not a regular hospital.

The right one is next to his hand. He grabs the sedative and slips it into his pocket as he turns around to face the nurse.

"Sorry! Legs you know?" Chuck nervously laughs.

The nurse nods and reaches her arm out. Chuck tenses as the arm moves closer and then behind him to push open the door to a small bathroom with a shower, toilet and sink. She hits the lights and steps back.

"Uh, thank you." Chuck whispers as he moves into the small bathroom.

"If you need help, I'll be right here," the nurse says.

Chuck nods as he pushes the door closed.

Chuck stares at himself in the mirror. A hand shakily moves up to his forehead and touches the brightly colored leads attached across his forehead and around his scalp. There's so many of them.

Focus. You need to focus. Ellie. Got to warn Ellie.

Chuck pulls at one of the leads until it pops off his head. He winces as the lead pulls his skin. This is going to hurt.

Chuck turns on the tap water on full blast and starts quickly pulling at the leads to disconnect them. He grabs them in clusters and yanks. His head is going to kill him later. Wires slowly fill up the sink. He keeps forcing himself to think of Ellie as he works. Ellie. Always Ellie.

Once he grabs the last one, Chuck splashes water on his face before turning the tap off.

"Mr. Carmichael? Do you need assistance?" The woman's voice floats in from the other side of the door.

"Uh…just a minute!"

Chuck tries to steady his breathing as he pulls the stashed needle out of his pocket. He carefully pulls the safety cap off the needle.

You try that shit again, and your sister is dead.

It's now or never.

"Uh…yeah…I do…I mean I need assistance." Chuck chokes out. He lowers his arm but holds the needle at the ready. Unfortunately, he can't keep the tremors at bay.

He faces the sink as the door opens and the nurse enters.

The brunette moves to Chuck's side. She takes in the tangle of wires in the sink.

"Mr. Carmichael those need to stay on."

She grabs his arm. Chuck loses his calm. He swings the needle around. Startled, the nurse moves to deflect his hand. She grabs his wrist and points the needle away from herself as she twists his arm behind his back.

The loss of support from the nurse causes Chuck to stumble. His lethargy and growing headache send him on a crash course with the floor, but not before knocking into the nurse then the wall before bringing her down on top of him.

Not good. Really, really not good.

Chuck shuts his eyes waiting for the inevitable pain. When nothing happens, he pops an eye open. The nurse lies motionless on top of him.

"Nurse?" he asks. He's met with silence.

Oh! The sedative! Chuck carefully moves his hands down her back until he feels the needle sticking out of her shoulder blades. Huh. How'd it get there?

He winces as he pulls it out and gently pushes her off him. He takes in a deep breath once her weight is gone. Chuck groans as he rolls over onto his hands and knees and then scrambles over the unconscious nurse.

You got this. You can do this! Chuck breathes as he leans over her.

"Sorry." He apologizes before slipping a hand into the back pocket of her scrubs and pulls out her black flip phone. He grips the phone tightly in his sweaty palms and moves to stand up. As he does so, he pauses when a black object catches his eye.

Chuck hesitates. He's entranced by the gun peaking out of the back of the nurse's scrubs. As a rule he's never touched a gun…well a real gun. Paintball with Awesome doesn't count.

If you try to escape, I'll pay a personal visit to everyone left in your family.

Chuck gulps. He reaches for the gun…