Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck.

AN: Thanks to my beta ShinyJayne19

Love, by many accounts was a terrifying thing. You couldn't trust it, and if you did, it'd only be your own undoing. There was countless stories that expand on the notion: how the simple act of opening up could be used against you. It could literally tear you apart. The only thing love could not succeed in doing was to stop the heart from beating completely.

But it did not mean it could not change the person. Sometimes, they'd wish for their hearts to stop all together. Or so the stories say..

And there was not a story more heartbreaking than what happened to Chuck Bartowski.

Three years ago, the young man had poured his hear to a women he had thought he had a chance with. He loved her with every ounce of strength in his mind body and soul. He would do anything for her. He would die for her. He had compromised himself for her. And being in the tumultuous relationship they were in, this woman, Sarah Walker, she had abandoned him because she truly believed it was not possible to love him the way he loved her. She thought Chuck was better off with someone else, someone who could respect him and love him accordingly. And so she left with a man she knew had no business being within a five foot radius around her.

Sarah and Special Agent Daniel Shaw left Burbank without a goodbye to Chuck, or anyone else. It was better that way. No one would get hurt. She wouldn't have to watch Chuck plead for her to stay. She couldn't handle that. It was just too much.

And things were relatively ok from then on. Chuck was depressed but learned to cope with the comfort of his friends, family and even Casey remained in Burbank to serve as the Intersect's partner along with Morgan. Sarah was in Europe with Shaw, living under another alias, participating in clandestine operations that made themselves scarce to anyone in the spy community, let alone Chuck himself. Chuck was done trying to contact Sarah, deeming it useless. His life was coming together; he met a girl, and he just tried to move on. It was working.

Until the Ring had targeted Chuck through some botched mission. An assassin had set up explosives from inside Chuck's apartment while the young spy was at his cover job. Little did the Ring, or Chuck know, but Ellie and Devon had come home early from work. Chuck's sister felt the need to restock her little brother's kitchen because god only knew what the boys kept to eat. Devon followed, groceries in hand. As soon as they walked through the door, tragedy struck: the bombs went off and engulfed the entire building in flames. The Woodcombs died instantly, but left Chuck to suffer.

He lost it.

He had first been abandoned by his mother at a young age; then his father; then Sarah...; now two of the most important people in his life were gone, dead. Ellie was more like his mother rather than an older sister. Devon, he did not deserve this. Neither of them did. but Chuck figured, through whatever his damaged psyche would allow, that he deserved this. People were meant to leave him. He wasn't mean to have a normal, happy life. He promised himself that he wouldn't allow to be hurt again.

He couldn't take anymore of this agony.

But Now, as the years added together, Sarah had come back to the only place she called home. Her relationship with Daniel did not work out as she desperately hoped. Shaw was not Chuck. He was too revenge-driven, searching for his wife's killer to do much anything else. Sarah felt guilty, for she was the one who murdered Evelyn Shaw. The images of her Red Test was always in the back of her mind, just as all those memories belonging to her and Chuck and the time they spent together. And so she ended relationship prematurely before Shaw could get violent. She was in Burbank, not for anything spy-related. It was primarily to see if Chuck was still there. She had not heard a word about the Intersect or anything at all. Casey had even refused to talk to her.

And yet, she and the Colonel were standing behind a two-way mirror. They looked through the translucent glass and saw that a Ring spy was strapped to a chair. He squirmed against the bindings; electrodes sticking to his forehead as a machine was monitoring his vitals. They were spiking up and down. Sarah knew that he had vital information, but really did not seem to care much. Casey let it slip that Chuck was going to be there. It was the only incentive of her coming at all.

"Long time no see," Casey mumbled sarcastically.

Sarah paid no heed to his remark. She rolled her eyes, keeping her gaze firmly on what was ahead of her.

He continued in the same condescending tone, "Didn't think you'd ever show up back here."

She was wrecked with guilt, but did not show it. It had been nearly an hour since she had found out that Ellie and Devon were murdered not a year earlier. God, why did it feel like it was her entire fault?

She steeled herself, gulping, and then changed the subject: "How's Chuck doing?"

Sarah did not meet Casey's eyes, but knew he was silently fuming. What a stupid question. It was obvious how Chuck must've been doing. It was a miracle that he hadn't thrown himself into a psych ward.

"How's Chuck?" He spat, his blue eyes pierced hers, condemning her. "He's fine and dandy, Walker."

There was nothing she could ever say that would make things sound better than they really were. She could never make up for what she had done. And it hurt her, a lot.

"Look, I'm sorry I left, I-"

Casey looked at her in disbelief. He growled lowly, "You dug your grave, now lay in it, Walker." It stung that she had been regulated back to her surname. "A lot has happened in the last few years. There's things that weren't published in Bartowski's dossier..."

It sounded like a warning.

What could Casey possibly be hiding from her?

Sarah whipped her head around once the door to the interrogation room swung open. Stepping inside at a brisk, business-like pace, was Chuck. Her eyes widened, tears were pooling around the edges, waiting to fall. Shock seized her and she could hardly move. What was Chuck doing in there with the Ring agent?

"Chuck..." she whispered.

He could not hear her. From the opposite side of the two-way mirror, he surveyed his work-space until his scrutinizing gaze fell onto the man strapped to the chair. Chuck looked older, matured. His curly brown hair had been sheared; dressed in jeans, a white top and a brown jacket over his shoulders, his hollow eyes locked onto the enemy spy. He was holding onto a grocery bag with one hand. A smile tugged on the corners of his lips as he made his advance.

There was a sigh.

"Here we go," grunted Casey.

It sounded so final. Sarah was going to ask what was going on but found that watching would serve as as a better explanation.

Chuck settled the bag onto the plastic table while also removing the satchel from over his shoulder. The Ring agent watched in muffled silence. He was watching carefully, sweat trickling down his face. Various contents were strewn about: A bottle of Johnny Walker Whiskey, a syringe, salami, ham, cheese, and wonder bread.

The Ring agent had obviously seen more than enough because he twisted roughly in the chair and snarled, "What the fuck is going on? Gonna make me a Subway sandwich?"

Chuck did not answer, but the smile that had only touched his lips were now spreading to his entire face. He looked like he was enjoying himself. He bobbed his head up and down while removing his jacket, and then unscrewing the bottle of Whiskey. He took a long pleasant swig. The Ring agent eyed him up and down, fear beginning to show on his face. Chuck watched with amused eyes as his prisoner wobbled back and forth in the chair, demanding freedom.

Chuck kicked up a chair and slammed the bottle of Whiskey onto the table. It startled the Ring spy into silence. Chuck snorted, enjoying the ability to command fear at a moment's notice. He said with a laugh, "Nah, the sandwich is for me. I get hungry on the job," he indicated the alcohol, "And a little thirsty too."

The Ring agent narrowed his eyes into a suspicious glare. He did not like how the man in front of him was acting so flippant.

"Who are you,kid? You look a little too young for this sort of thing?"

Chuck shrugged, "Well I was only what, twenty-seven when I was recruited?" He lifted his chin, looking contemplative. Then he stared at the window, knowing that Casey was behind it's invisible curtain. He hollered, "Hey Casey! I was twenty-seven right? It was right after my sister and brother-in-law went Kaboom, right?"

Sarah exchanged a look with Casey, who looked complacent with the situation. She, on the other hand, was deeply unsettled. Was this really Chuck? It couldn't be... There was something terribly off about him. He looked jubilant, laughing and joking, but in the depths of his eyes, something had been broken.

Forget broken, Sarah corrected herself, It's been fuckign shattered.

Had she been the one who caused this? Was she responsible for this new, tortured Chuck?

"Yeah, well if you wanted to know who I am," Chuck's pleasant voice brought Sarah to the disturbing present. He was leaning forward, grinning at the Ring spy. His arm was extended, his fingers prodding the syringe eagerly. His voice dropped, "Then i'll just have to show you!"

He jabbed the Ring agent in the neck with the syringe. The luminescent liquid emptied into his flesh as the man cried out in surprise.

"You motherfucker! What did you do?"

Chuck removed the syringe and sat back on his chair. He appeared to be satisfied. A smirk settled on his features, his eyes darted to the wall where a clock was located. He pursed his lips and counted under his breath.

"In a few seconds, the liquid will work its way into your bloodstream," he explained like it was an everyday conversation. "So it'd be the smart thing to do to tell me what's the big plan for the Ring lately? I'd love to know..."

The man was already showing signs of fatigue and pain. He was blinking his eyes rapidly and sweating harder than before. Chuck acknowledged this with an unsympathetic look.

"Yeah, yeah. It hurts doesn't it? Good, that means its working."

The Ring spy began to scream soon after the injection. Sarah nearly jumped back, cupping her hands over her mouth. Casey looked slightly upset. Chuck, however, was leaning in his chair, almost bored. He was studying his fingernails for awhile before looking back at the spy.

"You ready to tell me what i want to know?"

"Never!" The man spat.

"Whatever you say."

The torture continued and Sarah was having trouble staying quiet. Chuck was now eyeing the ingredients to make his sandwich. He looked hungry. It made Sarah feel sick to herself.

"You need to make him stop!" She hissed at Casey.

"He's not really doing anything," he replied. "I guess he's going for the psychological route this time. Usually its right down to business with him. He must be in a bad mood."

Her mouth was agape. "A bad mood?"

"He makes them suffer longer, you know how the game is, Walker."

Sarah looked at Casey, aghast. She narrowed her eyes and then approached the two-way mirror. She began pounding on the window, trying to get Chuck's attention.

"Are you an idiot?" Casey said. "He can't hear you."

"I need to get him out of here," she walked towards the exit with haste.

"I wouldn't do that if i were you."

Sarah came to a halt. She balled her hands into fists and spun around. She snapped, "And why the hell not?"

"Chuck's not exactly...balanced."

She said through clenched teeth: "I can see that."

And with that, she wrenched the door open, slamming it shut with a resounding crash.