Chuck versus the Saint, Chapter 4
For notes and disclaimer, please see part one.
Here's a couple things you might need to know, or maybe you just forgot: Chuck, Sarah, and Casey go to Club Phoenix to try to find the weapons deal between Catalyst, a Ring agent, and Donovan Hathaway. But, instead of completing their mission, Casey ends up shot and transported to Westside Medical. Chuck calls Devon and Morgan to join him as they wait on information about Casey. Ellie realizes who it was she was working on, and doesn't handle that knowledge very well. She learns that Chuck is a spy, and that Devon knew for longer than she would've ever realized.
~~~
“Hey, Sarah,” Chuck answered, sitting in the darkened office at Westside.
“Chuck...” She sighed. “Beckman's sending three teams, one to try to follow the shooter, one to work on finding Hathaway, and the third to find Catalyst.”
“Okay.”
“I... I'm probably going to need your help to prepare the briefing.”
“I've got Awesome and Morgan here. They can keep us posted on Casey's status.”
“How's Ellie?”
“She's... I don't know,” he admitted.
“Okay,” Sarah said softly. “I'm at Castle.”
“I'll be right there,” he promised before hanging up the phone. He had to be a spy. He had to be a spy and work. He emerged into the brightly lit hallway, finding Devon standing guard for him. “Hey.” He frowned. “Where's Ellie?”
Devon shrugged. “I think this may be the straw that finally breaks the camel's back. You know, we haven't been on the best of terms for a little while now.”
“Don't talk like that yet,” Chuck said. “She's just... She's a Bartowski. She needs time to freak out before she can calm down.” He sighed. “Listen, I have to get to Castle. If there's any change, no matter how slight, if there's any news, no matter how un-newsworthy you may find it...”
“I'll call you, bro.”
Chuck nodded.
Devon couldn't help but notice that it seemed like Chuck had aged a dozen years since he'd seen him last.
~~~
As Chuck descended into Castle, there were several agents already assembled within its protective walls. Sarah had changed, out of the dress and into jeans and a black tee shirt, her hair pulled back, almost severely. Her makeup was still smudged from the sprint and, Chuck guessed, from tears.
He was entirely over-dressed for the gathering. It wasn't the clothing itself that caught the attention of the CIA agents; it was the blood on his shirt, on his pants.
Sarah moved towards him, guiding him deeper into the base. “I set some clothes out for you,” she said.
“Hey, Sarah, I... Casey wanted me to tell Ellie something. I mean, the potential for last...” He closed his eyes, determined to get through the thought without breaking. “Last-ever words and he wants... he wants me to pass along a message to my sister...? Why do you think that is?” he asked as they moved further and further away from the other agents.
“What did he want you to tell her?”
“That he was sorry. What would he be sorry for? I mean, why would he even...”
Sarah stopped, looking up at him.
“What? What's going on with him? Before, I mean. Before he was... before tonight,” he said, unable to bring himself to say it again, that Casey had been shot.
“A spy's greatest enemy is proximity,” she said, continuing down the hall.
Chuck followed her. “How is that bad? I would think that would be a good thing. Keep your friends close, your enemies closer, y'know?”
“As much as we didn't want it to happen, as much as we tried to prevent it from happening... And, believe me, Chuck, we both did...” She took a breath. “I think there's something going on between Casey and Ellie.”
Chuck actually laughed at that. “Oh, yeah, uh-huh, sure. Colonel Duty-before-dishonor and Dr. Loyalty-above-all-else.”
“I'm not talking about a tryst. I think, because of their proximity, they've established a connection.”
“A connection?” Chuck repeated.
“It's an easy trap to fall prey to. And sometimes you don't even realize what's happening.”
“Sarah, this has been a long night and I feel like you're talking to me in code. What are you really saying?”
“I'm saying that I think Casey has developed feelings for your sister, feelings he'd never act on, not in a million years. And that Ellie has done the same for him.”
“But... Devon...”
“As I said, neither of them would ever act on it, but it's there, this underlying current of... of something.”
Chuck slowly shook his head. “That's... that's crazy.”
“Look at us,” she said simply.
“We're different. We're completely different. One of us isn't married and the other of us isn't, y'know, older than the other by... numerous years.”
“One of us is a killer,” she said. “One of us isn't. One of us is a spy, one of us never wanted this life but had it thrust upon us anyway.”
Chuck shook his head. “Don't you go trying to make this make sense to me, Sarah. I can't... I think my brain, my Intersect brain, has had all the information it can possibly stand for one night. One more inkling, one more bit of data and I think I could crash.”
“I need you to focus on the briefing. Do you think you can?”
He nodded.
~~~
Ellie stood in the hallway outside the operating room, watching numbly. Casey's gold-and-garnet Marine Corps ring was still on her thumb. It was loose, easy to twirl around. It gave her something to do, something to fidget with as she waited.
She was so conflicted, so torn. She'd give anything to be scooting across the courtyard, to knock on his door, to ask for advice, for guidance, for wisdom. Or even just to watch him trim and care for his bonsai tree. That was when he was the most peaceful, when she'd found the most comfort.
Morgan stood at the end of the hall, watching Ellie watch Casey. He wasn't sure where Devon had gotten off to, or Chuck for that matter, but he slowly eased down the hallway, carrying two Styrofoam cups. “Hey, El,” he said gently.
She looked over at him. She tried to smile, but all she could manage was a faint twitch in the corners of her mouth.
“Coffee?” he said, offering her one.
She took it, careful not to lose Casey's ring. She didn't drink the coffee; she just held it, returning her attention to the surgeons at work.
“Big guy's gonna be fine. He's, y'know... he's the big guy.”
She nodded.
“You care about him,” he said, more as an observation than a question. She didn't respond. “Lemme guess, huh? The explosion in San Francisco, he saved you from that. And the mugging? Oh. Or, maybe it wasn't a mugging after all, was it? Something far more sinister, I'd bet...”
She chewed on the inside of her cheek, remembering being so scared. But, Casey had been so strong, so indestructible.
“The, uh...” He cleared his throat. “The hospital thing, when you were... when you were taken hostage. He was there, too, wasn't he?”
She tried to remain stoic, to draw from Casey's strength. A lone tear escaped, streaking down her cheek.
“El, I get it. Your very own bodyguard is... Well, he's down for a little maintenance. That's all. He'll be up and grunting and pushing the rest of us around before you know it.”
“Morgan, I don't... I don't know how it happened,” she admitted in a whisper. “How he became somehow... important, integral...”
“Don't worry about it now, Ellie, okay, just... focus your energies on the power of positive thought, right? We know he'll get better, so he will get better.”
She managed a slight nod.
“Do you need anything?”
She inhaled slowly, brokenly before shaking her head.
“Okay,” he said, squeezing her arm. “If you need me, I'll be close by.”
~~~
Castle was quiet again, after a briefing with more agents than Chuck had seen in a while. Three teams, comprised of twelve agents apiece, were now scouring the city for any traces of the shooter, for any traces of Hathaway or Catalyst.
Club Phoenix was shut down, cordoned off. Half of the shooter team were starting from the club, trying to determine if there was any evidence left to help give them a direction.
Sarah rewound the footage from the interior of the club. “It doesn't make sense to me, why Casey would leave his post. Or what would cause our communications to malfunction like that.”
Chuck shrugged.
Sarah eased to sit down next to Chuck as she hit play on the surveillance recording. They watched as they received their martinis followed by the exchange between Chuck and Casey regarding the drinks. They watched as they moved onto the dance floor, trying to find either of their marks.
They watched as Casey slid over the top of the bar, making his way towards them.
They watched as Chuck stood on the table.
Sarah paused the screen.
“Oh, my God,” Chuck said, feeling as though he'd just been punched in the stomach. The shooter, very clearly, had her weapon trained on him. “Casey was protecting me.”
When Sarah restarted the footage, it was clear that Casey tackled her, that they tumbled to the ground, lost amid the sea of dancers.
“Sarah, he was saving me.”
She reached over, taking Chuck's hand. “I know this is a lot to process...”
“I'm the reason he got shot!”
“The reason he got shot is not because of you, or anything you did or didn't do, or because of him, or anything he did or didn't do. The reason he got shot is because that woman,” she said, pointing at the screen, “shot him. That woman brought the gun to the club.”
“Sarah, I...”
She stood, moving to stand in front of him, so that he had to look at her. “Chuck, Casey did his job, just as we were doing ours. Right?” Off his jerky nod, she continued. “This is no one's fault but the shooter's.”
“But--”
“No, Chuck,” she said firmly. “This is not your fault.”
Chuck closed his eyes, taking shallow breaths.
“We should...” She sighed. “We should get to the hospital.”
He slowly opened his eyes, nodding.
“You're going to have to tell her,” Sarah said gently.
“Tell who what?” Chuck asked, glancing at her.
Sarah looked at him as sympathetically as she could. “You're going to have to tell Ellie what Casey said. Just in case.”
He shook his head. “Casey can't... Casey can't possibly d...” He couldn't bring himself to say the “d” word. He just couldn't.
“He won't.” At least, Sarah hoped. “But, he asked you to do something for him.”
Chuck nodded.
~~~
As Chuck walked into the hospital, he felt the crushing weight of the situation on his shoulders again. In the car, at the Castle, it was somehow lessened. The closer he got to Casey, the closer he got to his sister, the heavier the weight felt.
He slowly approached Ellie, knowing that she wouldn't be far from the operating room. She was still in the hall, still playing with Casey's ring, still holding the untouched coffee from Morgan. “Hey, sis...” he ventured.
She glanced over, regarding him suspiciously.
“I... Casey wanted me to...” He cleared his throat. “Casey wanted me to tell you something.”
Her suspicion melted but she was still fretful, remembering well that she'd been the one to slam the door on her way out.
“He wanted me to tell you that he was sorry.”
Ellie closed her eyes.
“El, I...” Chuck wasn't sure what Casey was sorry for, but clearly Ellie knew, and she was responding to it.
It had been somewhat tranquil at first, her closed eyes, but then her face contorted. The emotions she'd struggled to keep inside, to keep under wraps could no longer be stopped. In torturous misery, she sobbed openly.
When he saw her start to crumble, he moved forward, pulling her into his arms, easing the coffee from her hand before trying to be her rock, to be steady for his big sister, who'd always been there for him, who'd always taken care of him.
While he'd always wanted to be able to return the favor for her, she never seemed to need it.
Until now.
~~~
She only had to tug a small suitcase from the baggage return. She'd packed light for two reasons. One, she didn't assume she'd stay long and two, she hadn't been given much time to pack in the first place.
She wheeled her case towards the Los Angeles night. For a woman who rarely left the Windy City anymore, it was quite a change. Her piercing blue eyes scanned her surroundings, spotting the person who had to be waiting on her.
Dark hair, softly tanned skin, still in scrubs. Most importantly, she was exactly how he'd described her.
Wheeling the suitcase closer, she spoke with certainty: “Ellie.”
Ellie turned, recognizing instantly the same blue eyes and kind smile she'd seen a hundred times. “Mrs. Casey.”
“Dear, I thought we'd covered this over the phone. It's Joan.”
Joan looked exactly like the kind of woman who would have a blue-ribbon peanut butter cookie recipe. She wore a periwinkle twinset, dark slacks, and sensible flats. Her gray hair was shoulder length but pulled back at the nape of her neck.
“Joan,” Ellie corrected. “I'm so glad you could come on such short notice.”
“I'm so glad you called,” she admitted. “I'm not sure I would've known otherwise.”
“My car is this way,” Ellie said, taking over luggage duty. “We'll go straight to the hospital.” She glanced casually at her watch--the watch he'd given her. She tried not to let that memory darken her thoughts for long. “He's been in surgery since about nine.”
“Is that normal?”
Ellie popped the trunk of her car, sliding the suitcase within safely. “There have been complications,” she said hesitantly. “Collapsed lung chief among them.”
“You said he was in good hands, though.”
“He is.”
“If you trust them, I trust them. Because, Johnny trusts you.”
Ellie tried to smile at Joan, she did. It just didn't quite work out the way she'd wanted it to. “We should get back.”
~~~
Devon and Morgan were playing cards in the back corner of the waiting room. Chuck sat, his head in his hands, next to Sarah, who was gently rubbing his back.
It had taken a while for Ellie to calm down after Chuck delivered Casey's message, but as soon as she had, she'd pushed Chuck away. The distrust in her eyes, the disappointment, it was almost too much for Chuck to handle. It was worse than hearing her voice when he'd called to tell her he'd been kicked out of Stanford. It was worse than seeing her face when they realized their mother was never, ever coming back. It was even worse than seeing her face when they realized their father was never, ever coming back.
They'd been through so much. They'd endured so much together, that facing this alone, without her, it was troubling.
He wanted his sister back.
He glanced towards the door when two shadows passed in the hall. He recognized Ellie and slowly got to his feet.
“Chuck?” Sarah asked.
“I'll be right back,” he said, moving out into the corridor and around the corner, following after Ellie and the older woman with her.
They paused, just shy of the hall with the operating rooms. After quiet words, Ellie slipped down the hall, clearly to check on Casey. But, who was the woman?
Chuck waved a little when the woman looked back at him. He slowly approached her. “Hi, there...”
She smiled a little, sadly. “You must be Chuck.”
“I, uh... yeah. Yeah, I'm Chuck. I'm sorry, I don't believe we've met.”
“Joan Casey,” she said. “I'm John's mother.”
Chuck narrowed his eyes ever so slightly. John Casey didn't have a mother. Alex Coburn had one. “Well, it's nice to meet'cha,” he said, his jaw tight as he held his hand out to her. His mind was reeling. He wished he'd grabbed Sarah for this.
“Likewise,” she said, taking his hand.
As they shook, Chuck glanced down, spotting a distinctive white gold ring with a blue gemstone. Sapphire, he suspected, until his eyes unfocused. He was struck with a series of images. Once he sorted through the random ones, he saw her, younger, with the same ring. It wasn't sapphire but a custom-made marquise-cut blue diamond ring. The CIA dossier listed her name as Elizabeth Coburn, born Elizabeth Lennox, along with her code name. “Bl-Bluebird...” His eyes grew wide. “Omigod... You...”
“Chuck, I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention that name again,” Joan said evenly.
“But you... you're... and he's...”
“It's all classified,” she said gently.
“Wh... right, I just... I didn't know that you... that he...” Chuck shook his head. “Hi, Mrs. Casey. It's very nice to meet you. I'm just so sorry that it's under these circumstances.”
“Me, too, Chuck.”
~~~
1989
She sat at the funeral. Prim. Still. She'd buried her husband because of his chosen profession, and now she was burying her son.
There weren't many at the graveside service. A few other servicemen, the local color guard, and an Army chaplain.
No one who had known her son personally.
It bothered him, the way the suit made her look gaunt, thin, as he stood across the way, hidden behind a tree at the edge of the cemetery.
She clutched the tri-folded flag as it was presented to her.
One by one, everyone left.
One by one, the service dwindled, down to a mother and her son.
She inhaled deeply, glancing around, ensuring that the coast was clear. She looked forward, at the treeline, where her son was standing, waiting. Hesitantly, she nodded.
He sprinted to across the graveyard to her, careful of headstones and markers. “I know this doesn't make sense,” he began.
“You don't have to tell me anything... John. I know.”
Confusion crossed his young features.
She reached out, touching her son's still innocent face. “Someday, today won't matter. It'll be like a long, forgotten memory. A faded dream. But, remember this: I love you, son. No matter what your name.”
He nodded. The thing that bothered him most, the thing that troubled him, was dishonoring his father's memory. “Dad... I don't think he'd understand. Ever.”
“Your father, rest his soul, knew something of service. Of sacrifice. It's not just the name he gave you. In your chest beats the same heart, the heart of a soldier, a stubborn one,” she said, cracking a slight smile.
“Mother, I...”
“Don't worry, Johnny-boy,” she said affectionately. “Joan Casey will always be there for her son John.”
~~~
Stay tuned...
Lines from the next installment:
The chapel.
She wasn't really the praying type, but she found herself wandering reverently inside, nervously standing at the back.
The room was dim but peaceful. It was small, with a few pews and a tiny altar at the front. “I don't know what I'm doing here,” she admitted in a voice barely above a whisper. “God, I know you and I haven't been on speaking terms since Mom left. And, particularly not after Dad left. And it would have to take a really good reason for me to start talking to you again.”
She eased to sit on one of the pews, looking at the Marine Corps ring on her thumb.
She drew a slow breath, closing her eyes and bowing her head. “Please, don't let him die.”