Title: but something told me to run, and honey you know me...
Rating: T
Pairing(s): Chuck/Sarah
Summary: He goes through the stages, very much like a drug addict that's just lost their poison or rather their haven. He can't accept her departure, much less that she's turned her back on him just to walk away with the original person who turned his world upside down. But she'll come back, and soon he tells himself, she'll come back and they'll be Casey-and-Sarah-and-Chuck once again. But she doesn't.
Note: I hadn't planned on archiving this particular piece on this site, but due to some encouragement (mainly on behalf of kayla101blue) I have decided to do so now. This is an entry for the BR-GCG angst competition, and I hope you enjoy.

There's nothing graceful about gunfire, bloodshed, violence, or the endangerment of lives in general. Somehow she brought that grace to the table, however, and the blows soften because of her presence.

But then she's gone and has escaped to her little corner of her world--a corner opposite of his, something that tears at him. It makes him retract, leaves him speechless for days on end, until he's numb and wearing a mask.

He goes through the stages, very much like a drug addict that's just lost their poison or rather little haven. He can't accept her departure, as timely and professional as it may have been, the point is that she left. And she'll come back, soon he tells himself, she'll come back and they'll be Casey-and-Sarah-and-Chuck once again.

But she doesn't. There are no phone calls, no letters, not even a Goddamn, simple text message. The lack of her voice and face over the next several days are like Novocain, and he grows careless and indifferent to whatever may occur to him.

He doesn't try to comprehend it because it makes no sense. It had been them for a year, and suddenly Bryce appeared once more and she chose him this time. What? Did she make a mistake the time before by choosing to remain by the Intersect's side? Really, has her time with him been that bad? He begins acting rebellious, and his sister has to remind herself he has to go through this stage now. He has to go through these angry bouts and although it's no better than having him walking around with a blank stare, the stages ahead should prove better.

Casey isn't so…understanding. He gets tougher with him, begins pushing him around more but Chuck fights back now. In an ugly sparring of words, he even blames Casey for her departure. That's when Chuck gets his black eye. And when he gets his black eye, that's when he tilts his head up, stares up at the dark night's sky, and whispers, "please…God, sir, ma'm or whoever has the big reins over there, I promise, I SWEAR to listen to both her and Casey if you bring her back here."

In this particular stage of bargaining, Ellie watches her brother scrawl on notebooks and sit outside, and sometimes she hears him whispering something or another silently.

Chuck, he's more than aware that the little promises and bargains he makes to 'the big guy upstairs' are of little to no use. Still he hopes, and still he breaks when over the course of 17 days, nothing changes.

It was very much like this with Jill, and yet it was something entirely different. He manages to keep his job, hasn't isolated himself completely, and can say her name without a venomous tone.

But finally he slips into chaos and depression. Through denial, anger, and bargaining, he could walk. Now he lies in bed, head dug into the pillow, blanket enveloping him, with some depressing songs flowing through his radio.

There are no tantrums when she pulls the blanket off and turns him towards her so she can hand him his plate. He takes it silently, stares at the plate or bowl as she sits besides him urging him to eat. The fork or spoon slowly go to his mouth, and after a few to several spoonfuls he hands the food back to her and pulls the blanket back over him.

Morgan has to cover for him consistently, and the only times Chuck gets up and goes to work is when Casey drops in, pushes Chuck out of bed and forces him to get a move on to work. And even at work, he hardly does a thing.

Life goes on as it has to, and one day he's up and helping with breakfast. There's a smile and even a laugh from him that morning, but there's a glint of something missing in his eyes, and it makes no sign of returning.

So they still tiptoe around him, and he knows they're tiptoeing but he doesn't care so long as they don't push him or interrogate him about her.

He's at the center of a balance beam he'd rather not tip over because gosh was he pathetic. He doesn't want to go back to that, because imagine if she were to return one day. She would see this lowlife who was all torn up about her as she built her little perfect life with Bryce Larkin--the guy who (if she didn't remember) lied to him, her, and an entire government corporation.

If Chuck weren't so hell-bent on keeping up appearances and hardening his façade, he would admit that a part of him had that smallest bit of hope that one day she would reappear. Just like that same part of him would admit that he also feared her reappearance as she could have Bryce in tow.

--

They say there's an appropriate and not completely unexpected reaction for everything, but Chuck's never been brave or forthright--at least not immediately. When he faces a trigger, he has to ruminate on it, and think about the consequences.

Fury, though, is the only trigger that's needed that night he spots the strands of her soft wavy blond hair playing against the wind.

Like a sharpshooter, his eyes focus in, his ears mute all sounds, and his feet point in the direction of its target. Then his feet are pressing against the concrete, his legs are pushing forwards, and his arms are at his sides as he runs.

Casey's up on the roof chasing some smuggler and that agent they replaced her with has her back to Chuck when he begins running. When she notes that her charge has taken off, she begins going after him, but the night's suddenly grown darker, and every guy in the place is wearing the same tuxedo as him. She tries spotting him, asks around, but no, one's seen him, and this isn't good.

Chuck hasn't thought about those people who are supposed to be watching after him and he doesn't realize he's inadvertently lost them both during his own chase.

She doesn't even realize there's a chase going on around her, as she steadily walks through the exit of the ballroom.

His shoulder complains after its pushed the same door she's walked out through, but he pays no attention because now his hand is on her wrist. He even ignores the aching pain he feels in his stomach after she's kicked him because God, now she's giving him a wide-eyed stare. And he's the one whose been kicked--and has been hurt--but she's the one whose breathing is shallow and hands are even…

Sarah had this grace about her, grace that made him smile like an idiot and calmed him through the storms brought on by him being the Intersect. He doesn't see it now.

He just sees betrayal and abandonment, even in the small tremble of her hands. He doesn't care that his response is less than appropriate, and he lets his subconscious rest in the pit of his stomach when the 'this is wrong' chant begins.

His kiss is harsh, and he's not going to stop despite her protests. She tries pushing him away (and there are a variety of reasons of why she tries, primarily that Chuck is not supposed to be harsh) although he would hardly call it trying because she's stronger than the hits she's giving, but obviously she isn't using all her strength. Not that it matters because her pushing him away through these physical acts are nothing compared to the hollowing he felt at her leaving him without so much as a goodbye.

His hands hold her head forcibly as his tongue threads through her lips, his teeth press into her bottom lip, and she parts her mouth at the same time that she stops pushing and pounding. And she kisses him back.

He moves his hands down onto her cheeks, pauses so his thumbs stroke her cheeks once…twice. Then he lowers them further, for a millisecond on her neck, for seconds brushes them over her breasts, then down her sides and for a moment his hands are only at her hips and he's kissing her softly--as is she.

But it's only for a moment, and then his hands grasp at her hips to push her further into him, and he wraps his arms around her as he grinds into her.

"Chuck," she murmurs against his lips, and there's nothing graceful about the way she's been pulling his head forward, and much less about how she speaks his name in that low, aroused whisper.

He pulls away, shakes his head, and laughs bitterly.

There's shock on her face because this isn't Chuck. There's a glint in his eyes she doesn't remember, and the one glint she remembers all too well, she can't find. She feels the burn of regretful tears forming at her eyes and the burn of his cold gaze and tone.

"Sarah."

When he turns his back on her she wants to scream for him to turn back around, for him just to look at her but she has no right to be that much of a hypocrite and she lets him walk away. She's done her fair share of damage.

--

Through some horrible and wonderful miracle, Casey comes to knock on her apartment door two days afterwards.

She's in the process of packing up to leave this place. She had never been in one place this long since before the CIA came knocking, and it's bittersweet but she can't stand knowing that there she had encountered Chuck. After leaving Chuck to chase some old path, after leaving some old path to travel an unbeknownst one, she would be leaving the fabled path because Chuck, the original unbeknownst track, had charged back in if all for a second.

But there's a knock on the door, and there with the same look of irritation and no nonsense is Agent Casey ordering her to get her ass in gear because they were going on a trip.

She makes a joke, something about manners and greetings, but he just closes her apartment door and pulls her along as they walk towards his car.

She attempts to punch him but he blocks her and he makes a joke about her being out of practice, then mentions that if she doesn't cooperate, he'll give the CIA a notice of her whereabouts.

It's sufficient warning for her to get in his car.

They travel in silence--well not actual silence. Casey puts on an old tape of some strange music that he seems to appear to enjoy thoroughly, and when she begins asking him what 'all this' is about he tells her not to interrupt until the music stops.

It doesn't stop until he's shut off the engine, and by then he's back to pulling her, this time from the car towards this quaint hotel.

She stops completely and doesn't let Casey pull her any further because she now is sure of where he's taking her and she can't handle that. Terrorists, thieves, murderers, convicts she handle. Not Chuck.

Not that she has much of a choice because Casey pulls out his phone and dials the direct line to CIA headquarters. She almost wants to let him complete the call because returning to the CIA with some serious ramifications would probably be less torture than facing the repercussions of her effect on Chuck. And Chuck's effect on her.

This all has to come to an end at some point however, so she gets to walking again and follows Casey through the halls, up the elevator, down another hall and to a room's door. He knocks on the door when she stands there, staring, fist in mid-air for a minute. She throws an angered look but he just grins and walks away when they see the doorknob being turned.

There's a struggle when he finds Sarah instead of Casey after he's opened his door.

The sound of the slamming door coincides with the sound of her dropping heart and she has to tell herself 'pull yourself together, this isn't about you, this is about him.'

And that's enough courage for her to knock again, and amazingly the door opens again, but she doesn't see his face this time, only his back as he stalks off into the room.

She walks in tentatively, lightly her feet prod on the floor after she's locked the door behind her.

On his bed he sits, silent as he blankly stares at the television that's on. She doesn't know what course of action to take, something that makes her nervous.

Seeing him so cold however causes her to kneel before him and softly ask him to look at her, or just for him to listen.

There's no response from him, but he doesn't exactly move, nor does he flinch so she takes it as a sign.

Her hands securely crossed on her lap, knees only inches from his feet, and with her head looking up at him with the bit of confidence she's managed to conjure up, she begins.

He realizes he's granting her immunity for a moment just by letting her be this close and letting her speak as he sits so patiently. Like a statue. But his heart's pounding in his chest with frustration and heartache because one day and a half ago, there was just anger at seeing her, and he had kissed her harshly. The day that followed that night, he relapsed into depression and Casey broke into his room to find him balled up in bed.

Perhaps that's why Sarah's here now. Casey must have tracked her down and brought her here, because even though he was no longer balled up in bed that morning, he did have quite the attitude.

He wants to be numb to her, wants to hate her, but she's talking about seeing her relationship with Bryce through and how she could not have had the courage to do so if she said goodbye. Then she goes into some journey she needed to take, one that didn't involve Bryce or the CIA, and that's how she came to be in that city.

She wanted to be free, and being single and working another job seemed the way to go. Except, freedom didn't taste quite like she expected and soon all she felt was nostalgia. And when nostalgia began creeping in, she began realizing that there was another taste that used to confuse her, but not anymore. Because it suddenly clicked with her that that's what freedom was supposed to feel like.

Words have stopped flowing from her mouth. Flowing.

He presses the power button on the remote, pauses as he stares at himself in the reflection of the television, and then he glances down.

There are stains on her cheeks, a soft smile on her face and there's nostalgia in her eyes. When their eyes meet, something goes off. Something about the way her hair frames around her face is so graceful it hurts. Doesn't seem like the hurt's going to leave soon, but he's had too much of the drought.

He slides of the bed, crouches in front of her and just stares. Fear is painted over the contours of her face, and a flinch only he would ever notice vertebrates from her when his right thumb brushes over her lips. Her eyes close, she freezes. She remains frozen when his lips touch hers.

She moves when his lips move against hers. Gently.

Title: but something told me to run, & honey you know me...
Rating: T
Pairing: Chuck/Sarah
Summary: He goes through the stages, very much like a drug addict that's just lost their poison or rather their haven. He can't accept her departure, much less that she's turned her back on him just to walk away with the original person who turned his world upside down. But she'll come back, and soon he tells himself, she'll come back and they'll be Casey-and-Sarah-and-Chuck once again. But she doesn't.
Note: I hadn't planned on archiving this particular piece on this site, but through the encouragement of several sources (mainly kayla101blue), I am doing so now. This is now an entry for the BR-GCG angst challenge. Anywho, hope you enjoy.