Chuck fic: The Differences Are The Same
Fandom: Chuck
Title: The Differences Are The Same
Characters: Chuck/Sarah
Genre: Angst
Rating: PG 13
Warnings: Spoilers for everything up to the season three finale. And ANGST. That too.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary: Sarah visited him every week in the hospital. No matter what anyone said, she would always take care of Chuck. How could she not?
He was her Chuck.
The cramped room had the appearance of someplace he would live. There was a small cot, with his bedsheets. There was also his collection of comic books on the bedside table. Every week a new Justice League would enter the pile, joining the other crisp, unread ones. They were all in perfect condition. There was also his Tron poster, hanging up on the wall. Even when this all began he couldn’t bear to part with it, and in all honesty, Sarah didn’t put up much of a fight. He deserved that much.
Sarah smiled at the sole resident of the room, who was currently sitting on his bed and staring at the wall. “Hey, Sweetie,” she said, gently touching him on the shoulder. The only sign that the man had felt anything was the slight turn of his shoulder, as if he wanted to look at her, but was too absorbed by whatever secrets lay within the wall he was staring at.
Sarah, used to this, nodded and sat down next to him. She stared at the objects in the room, as if trying to remind herself that this was his room, and that he really was here. Here, just not…all the way.
Maybe he had always known it would happen one day. Maybe that’s why Chuck had never let the Governor out of his sight; always putting its protection even above his own life.
But no matter how hard you try to protect something, there’s always one moment where nothing can be controlled. It only took two years for that to happen, long enough for Chuck to put his guard down just the smallest of fractions. But on that day, it was enough.
Finally, as if just seeing her there, Chuck turned his head towards Sarah and frowned at her. His face had the slight wrinkles of time and tragedy, his hair was messy and unkempt, and lately he seemed thinner than ever. But he was Chuck. He was her Chuck.
“Hey, there,” she said with a smile plastered on her face, though for whose benefit she wasn’t sure. Chuck was looking right through her, as if she wasn’t even there.
Quickly looking away, Sarah began to tell him about her week, like she always did. She told him about Morgan and Casey’s latest mission, and about Ellie and Devon’s little boy, his little nephew. His name was Chuck, she told him. He was Chuck.
Chuck seemed to smile, and Sarah smiled too. Chuck opened his mouth as if to say something, but then his eyes became distant as he started to see something Sarah couldn’t. His breathing began to quicken, and he gave frightened whimpers as he clutched his head. Sarah bowed her head, not wanting to watch.
Chuck had taken the Governor off once, as an experiment of sorts. As soon as he took it off, his whole body seemed tenser. Sarah watched as almost immediately he put it back on, his face filled with pure relief at the sensation of it against his mind. All that day he kept touching the watch, as if to make sure it was still there.
They hadn’t done any more experiments after that.
And just like that, after a few minutes, the flash was over, and Chuck was looking at her again. His gaze was far off, as if he was never quite in the same place as she was. As Chuck looked at Sarah, she knew he didn’t recognize her.
Trying to blink back tears, she put on a smile, for Chuck, for her Chuck.
“Um, I talked to Beckman yesterday. They haven’t been able to rebuild the Governor…but we’ll keep trying, okay, Chuck? We’ll fix it, and get you back to normal…we’ll get you back, okay?” Sarah said, not able to cover the tears choking her voice.
And then it became much more than an experiement. It was after a screwed up mission, one of those ones where everything just went to hell. Sarah had heard the crack of the watch’s surface as Chuck hit the ground, had seen the look of horror on his face.
“No, no, nonono, NO!” he cried, and Sarah remembered the panic that took over him as he cradled the delicate watch in his hand, the delicate piece of machinery that was keeping him alive.
Chuck had known what was going to happen next, even if Sarah hadn’t realized it at the time.
Chuck didn’t seem to notice her. His eyes were still flickering between images, seeing everything and knowing everything except for her. “Alex Coburn…” he murmured, trying in vain to communicate what he was seeing.
Sarah nodded. “That’s John Casey, remember? Do you remember Casey, Chuck?”
Chuck winced and whimpered as another flash overcame him.
“Oh, Chuck…” Sarah pulled him in close, hugging him to her chest. Chuck held onto her, tears running down his face as the flash racked through his brain.
But today wasn’t a bad day for Chuck. Some days his body was shaking and seizing from the flashes, some days he clutched his head like it was on fire.
No...Today was a good day.
It took a month for the lack of the Governor’s presence to affect Chuck. A whole month of Chuck on edge, always wired, just waiting for his mind to fail him. He tried to hide his little flashes of pain, but Sarah knew. And after that month, the flashes began to get more and more painful. Every month, hell, every week, they got worse.
Even as the government’s best scientists, even as Chuck tried to rebuild the Governor, his mind began to…
But Chuck had insisted that it could be fixed. It had to be able to be fixed.
And Sarah had believed him.
Chuck pulled back from her with a gasp. For a moment she could see the clarity in his face, but then he was gone again, his gaze far away from the life he was living.
“Colonel John Casey, NSA operative. Formally a member of Operation Bartowski,” Chuck said tonelessly. “Bartowski…” he frowned as if the name seemed familiar to him, and then his eyes crossed as the information came speeding in front of his eyes.
“Charles Bartowski, aka Charles Carmichael, CIA agent. The first and only Intersect agent. The Intersect proved to be unsuccessful and has caused severe mental deterioration. Bartowski is the only surviving subject,” he said, as if he were talking about something like the weather, and not…not about himself. About what had happened to him.
Sarah cringed to herself, but kept the smile on her face, for Chuck. All for Chuck. “That’s you,” she said, not able to hide the tears in her eyes anymore. “Don’t you remember, Chuck?”
Chuck leaned his head against the wall and sighed deeply. “M’ so tired…”
“I know you are,” Sarah nodded, not looking him in the eyes. She knew he was tired. She knew how exhausted he was, how much pain he was in everyday. Pain that he could never escape, not even in his sleep. She knew what she felt was nothing compared to what he was living through every second.
And yet they were so the same. They were both living through images of the past, memories that blocked them from what was happening right now. But neither of them could do anything to stop it.
Chuck’s father hadn’t left any blueprints behind. Even if the Governor could be fixed, by then the doctors thought it might be too late…
But Chuck was obsessed with it, locking himself inside his study with the watch, constantly tinkering and toying with it. It never worked though, it never would work, and he knew that, and Sarah knew that, but they kept up the pretense. Every day she would ask how the watch was going, and every day he would pretend to have made progress.
Other than that, they could only try to keep living their lives.
Sarah swallowed heavily, letting a tear flow down her cheek. She knew she’d been fooling herself for years. Saying that even with The Intersect in there, wreaking havoc on his mind, and causing him pain, and causing him to forget everything, that he was still Chuck. He was still her Chuck.
But he wasn’t. He just wasn’t. He was a guy who used to be Chuck, he was an empty vessel for that horrible computer which had taken over his…taken over their lives.
Chuck closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them they were crossed. His face was screwed up in pain, and Sarah dutifully held onto his hand as he processed the information.
“Operation Bartowski. Made up of agents John Casey, Morgan Grimmes, Charles Bartowski, and Sarah Walker. Sarah Walker…” The bags under his eyes stood out against his pale skin and made him look like a child as his gaze flickered over to her. Chuck looked at her and his eyes grew distant, and Sarah wondered what he was seeing, and then it was over and Chuck was back, and he was looking at her.
A week before it happened, he came to her. It was a week before words like “deteriorate,” and “psychosis,” became frightening ones. A week before the hospitals, before she started to lose him, he came to her. He stroked her cheek and lay in bed with her, and he said, “I’m sorry.”
Chuck frowned in concentration and for a moment…he saw her.
In a moment all the wrinkles and lines were smoothed away as his expression changed from one of exhaustion to something almost like relief. He breathed out, a smile forming on his face. Sarah could see all of his teeth as he looked at her and as he laughed with all the stress and exhaustion and relief that was coursing through him. All of his emotions played out on his face, but the primary one was relief. Relief that she was here with him. It was the same relief that lit up his face when he put the Governor around his wrist, and in that moment she knew: she was the closest thing he would ever have to feeling that relief again.
She was his Governor.
“Sarah,” he whispered, and he touched her face.
Sarah let the tears run down her face this time. “Chuck,” she sobbed, hugging him close. “Oh Chuck.”
“Sarah,” Chuck whispered again, unable to do anything more. His eyes were already growing distant once again, but he held onto Sarah’s hand. It was all he could do.
Sarah squeezed his hand and held onto him like he was a life raft. Her shoulders moved up and down as she sobbed against Chuck’s chest. “I miss you so much,” she gasped, running her thumb along his hand. “Chuck, I need you.”
Chuck didn’t answer, but Sarah kept holding onto him, holding onto who he was, and who he would always be to her. Right now, she didn’t want reality, or anything having to do with it. All she wanted was Chuck, and the illusion of him.
“You have nothing to be sorry for, Chuck,” she said, wrapping her arm around his waist.
“Not yet,” he whispered, as if already seeming to know what would happen, something she never could have guessed. After a moment of hesitation, he began, “Sarah, no matter what happens…” He faltered and looked away.
“What is it?” she asked, holding onto him.
After awhile, maybe hours, Sarah’s not really sure, the door opens and the nurse poked her head into the room. “I’m sorry to interrupt…”
Sarah slowly pulled away from Chuck and wiped her eyes, looking at the floor. “I know, Chelsea. I’m just saying goodbye.”
Chelsea looked at her with sad eyes. “I’m sorry, Sarah. We have to be careful not to over stimulate him is all. You’ll come back next week?”
Sarah nodded and Chelsea left, silently giving her room to say her goodbyes, as she had done every week for the past five years. Sarah hugged Chuck once more, trying not to feel hurt by the fact that he didn’t hug her back, because that’s just the way it was. She kissed him on the cheek and stood up. “Goodbye, Chuck.”
Chuck didn’t answer. His eyes were glazed over once again as he stared at door. Sometime in the hour she’d been holding him, he’d lost his sight, lost the ability to see anything that wasn’t on the computer in his mind.
Chuck glanced over at her. If Sarah tried, she could imagine that he was seeing her…but he wasn’t. Not really. The brief moment of clarity and relief from before was over, leaving behind the usual nothingness that occupied their lives. Sarah didn’t know if that moment was worth the emptiness is left behind, but she held onto it anyway, held onto the knowledge that he would never change, because he was Chuck.
Sarah walked out the door and closed it behind her. She leaned up against the door and tried to hold back her tears. Oh God, Chuck. He was still himself, somewhere underneath it all. Even if he was trapped inside his own head, even if he could never say he loved her, or even hold her hand, he was still Chuck.
Chuck looked back at her, an intensity in his eyes. “Sarah, I’ll always love you, okay? No matter what happens,” Chuck said.
Sarah felt a tear fall down her face and fall onto Chuck’s shirt. She nodded. “I know. And I’ll love you too. No matter what.”
Her Chuck. Always her Chuck.
Title: The Differences Are The Same
Characters: Chuck/Sarah
Genre: Angst
Rating: PG 13
Warnings: Spoilers for everything up to the season three finale. And ANGST. That too.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary: Sarah visited him every week in the hospital. No matter what anyone said, she would always take care of Chuck. How could she not?
He was her Chuck.
The cramped room had the appearance of someplace he would live. There was a small cot, with his bedsheets. There was also his collection of comic books on the bedside table. Every week a new Justice League would enter the pile, joining the other crisp, unread ones. They were all in perfect condition. There was also his Tron poster, hanging up on the wall. Even when this all began he couldn’t bear to part with it, and in all honesty, Sarah didn’t put up much of a fight. He deserved that much.
Sarah smiled at the sole resident of the room, who was currently sitting on his bed and staring at the wall. “Hey, Sweetie,” she said, gently touching him on the shoulder. The only sign that the man had felt anything was the slight turn of his shoulder, as if he wanted to look at her, but was too absorbed by whatever secrets lay within the wall he was staring at.
Sarah, used to this, nodded and sat down next to him. She stared at the objects in the room, as if trying to remind herself that this was his room, and that he really was here. Here, just not…all the way.
Maybe he had always known it would happen one day. Maybe that’s why Chuck had never let the Governor out of his sight; always putting its protection even above his own life.
But no matter how hard you try to protect something, there’s always one moment where nothing can be controlled. It only took two years for that to happen, long enough for Chuck to put his guard down just the smallest of fractions. But on that day, it was enough.
Finally, as if just seeing her there, Chuck turned his head towards Sarah and frowned at her. His face had the slight wrinkles of time and tragedy, his hair was messy and unkempt, and lately he seemed thinner than ever. But he was Chuck. He was her Chuck.
“Hey, there,” she said with a smile plastered on her face, though for whose benefit she wasn’t sure. Chuck was looking right through her, as if she wasn’t even there.
Quickly looking away, Sarah began to tell him about her week, like she always did. She told him about Morgan and Casey’s latest mission, and about Ellie and Devon’s little boy, his little nephew. His name was Chuck, she told him. He was Chuck.
Chuck seemed to smile, and Sarah smiled too. Chuck opened his mouth as if to say something, but then his eyes became distant as he started to see something Sarah couldn’t. His breathing began to quicken, and he gave frightened whimpers as he clutched his head. Sarah bowed her head, not wanting to watch.
Chuck had taken the Governor off once, as an experiment of sorts. As soon as he took it off, his whole body seemed tenser. Sarah watched as almost immediately he put it back on, his face filled with pure relief at the sensation of it against his mind. All that day he kept touching the watch, as if to make sure it was still there.
They hadn’t done any more experiments after that.
And just like that, after a few minutes, the flash was over, and Chuck was looking at her again. His gaze was far off, as if he was never quite in the same place as she was. As Chuck looked at Sarah, she knew he didn’t recognize her.
Trying to blink back tears, she put on a smile, for Chuck, for her Chuck.
“Um, I talked to Beckman yesterday. They haven’t been able to rebuild the Governor…but we’ll keep trying, okay, Chuck? We’ll fix it, and get you back to normal…we’ll get you back, okay?” Sarah said, not able to cover the tears choking her voice.
And then it became much more than an experiement. It was after a screwed up mission, one of those ones where everything just went to hell. Sarah had heard the crack of the watch’s surface as Chuck hit the ground, had seen the look of horror on his face.
“No, no, nonono, NO!” he cried, and Sarah remembered the panic that took over him as he cradled the delicate watch in his hand, the delicate piece of machinery that was keeping him alive.
Chuck had known what was going to happen next, even if Sarah hadn’t realized it at the time.
Chuck didn’t seem to notice her. His eyes were still flickering between images, seeing everything and knowing everything except for her. “Alex Coburn…” he murmured, trying in vain to communicate what he was seeing.
Sarah nodded. “That’s John Casey, remember? Do you remember Casey, Chuck?”
Chuck winced and whimpered as another flash overcame him.
“Oh, Chuck…” Sarah pulled him in close, hugging him to her chest. Chuck held onto her, tears running down his face as the flash racked through his brain.
But today wasn’t a bad day for Chuck. Some days his body was shaking and seizing from the flashes, some days he clutched his head like it was on fire.
No...Today was a good day.
It took a month for the lack of the Governor’s presence to affect Chuck. A whole month of Chuck on edge, always wired, just waiting for his mind to fail him. He tried to hide his little flashes of pain, but Sarah knew. And after that month, the flashes began to get more and more painful. Every month, hell, every week, they got worse.
Even as the government’s best scientists, even as Chuck tried to rebuild the Governor, his mind began to…
But Chuck had insisted that it could be fixed. It had to be able to be fixed.
And Sarah had believed him.
Chuck pulled back from her with a gasp. For a moment she could see the clarity in his face, but then he was gone again, his gaze far away from the life he was living.
“Colonel John Casey, NSA operative. Formally a member of Operation Bartowski,” Chuck said tonelessly. “Bartowski…” he frowned as if the name seemed familiar to him, and then his eyes crossed as the information came speeding in front of his eyes.
“Charles Bartowski, aka Charles Carmichael, CIA agent. The first and only Intersect agent. The Intersect proved to be unsuccessful and has caused severe mental deterioration. Bartowski is the only surviving subject,” he said, as if he were talking about something like the weather, and not…not about himself. About what had happened to him.
Sarah cringed to herself, but kept the smile on her face, for Chuck. All for Chuck. “That’s you,” she said, not able to hide the tears in her eyes anymore. “Don’t you remember, Chuck?”
Chuck leaned his head against the wall and sighed deeply. “M’ so tired…”
“I know you are,” Sarah nodded, not looking him in the eyes. She knew he was tired. She knew how exhausted he was, how much pain he was in everyday. Pain that he could never escape, not even in his sleep. She knew what she felt was nothing compared to what he was living through every second.
And yet they were so the same. They were both living through images of the past, memories that blocked them from what was happening right now. But neither of them could do anything to stop it.
Chuck’s father hadn’t left any blueprints behind. Even if the Governor could be fixed, by then the doctors thought it might be too late…
But Chuck was obsessed with it, locking himself inside his study with the watch, constantly tinkering and toying with it. It never worked though, it never would work, and he knew that, and Sarah knew that, but they kept up the pretense. Every day she would ask how the watch was going, and every day he would pretend to have made progress.
Other than that, they could only try to keep living their lives.
Sarah swallowed heavily, letting a tear flow down her cheek. She knew she’d been fooling herself for years. Saying that even with The Intersect in there, wreaking havoc on his mind, and causing him pain, and causing him to forget everything, that he was still Chuck. He was still her Chuck.
But he wasn’t. He just wasn’t. He was a guy who used to be Chuck, he was an empty vessel for that horrible computer which had taken over his…taken over their lives.
Chuck closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them they were crossed. His face was screwed up in pain, and Sarah dutifully held onto his hand as he processed the information.
“Operation Bartowski. Made up of agents John Casey, Morgan Grimmes, Charles Bartowski, and Sarah Walker. Sarah Walker…” The bags under his eyes stood out against his pale skin and made him look like a child as his gaze flickered over to her. Chuck looked at her and his eyes grew distant, and Sarah wondered what he was seeing, and then it was over and Chuck was back, and he was looking at her.
A week before it happened, he came to her. It was a week before words like “deteriorate,” and “psychosis,” became frightening ones. A week before the hospitals, before she started to lose him, he came to her. He stroked her cheek and lay in bed with her, and he said, “I’m sorry.”
Chuck frowned in concentration and for a moment…he saw her.
In a moment all the wrinkles and lines were smoothed away as his expression changed from one of exhaustion to something almost like relief. He breathed out, a smile forming on his face. Sarah could see all of his teeth as he looked at her and as he laughed with all the stress and exhaustion and relief that was coursing through him. All of his emotions played out on his face, but the primary one was relief. Relief that she was here with him. It was the same relief that lit up his face when he put the Governor around his wrist, and in that moment she knew: she was the closest thing he would ever have to feeling that relief again.
She was his Governor.
“Sarah,” he whispered, and he touched her face.
Sarah let the tears run down her face this time. “Chuck,” she sobbed, hugging him close. “Oh Chuck.”
“Sarah,” Chuck whispered again, unable to do anything more. His eyes were already growing distant once again, but he held onto Sarah’s hand. It was all he could do.
Sarah squeezed his hand and held onto him like he was a life raft. Her shoulders moved up and down as she sobbed against Chuck’s chest. “I miss you so much,” she gasped, running her thumb along his hand. “Chuck, I need you.”
Chuck didn’t answer, but Sarah kept holding onto him, holding onto who he was, and who he would always be to her. Right now, she didn’t want reality, or anything having to do with it. All she wanted was Chuck, and the illusion of him.
“You have nothing to be sorry for, Chuck,” she said, wrapping her arm around his waist.
“Not yet,” he whispered, as if already seeming to know what would happen, something she never could have guessed. After a moment of hesitation, he began, “Sarah, no matter what happens…” He faltered and looked away.
“What is it?” she asked, holding onto him.
After awhile, maybe hours, Sarah’s not really sure, the door opens and the nurse poked her head into the room. “I’m sorry to interrupt…”
Sarah slowly pulled away from Chuck and wiped her eyes, looking at the floor. “I know, Chelsea. I’m just saying goodbye.”
Chelsea looked at her with sad eyes. “I’m sorry, Sarah. We have to be careful not to over stimulate him is all. You’ll come back next week?”
Sarah nodded and Chelsea left, silently giving her room to say her goodbyes, as she had done every week for the past five years. Sarah hugged Chuck once more, trying not to feel hurt by the fact that he didn’t hug her back, because that’s just the way it was. She kissed him on the cheek and stood up. “Goodbye, Chuck.”
Chuck didn’t answer. His eyes were glazed over once again as he stared at door. Sometime in the hour she’d been holding him, he’d lost his sight, lost the ability to see anything that wasn’t on the computer in his mind.
Chuck glanced over at her. If Sarah tried, she could imagine that he was seeing her…but he wasn’t. Not really. The brief moment of clarity and relief from before was over, leaving behind the usual nothingness that occupied their lives. Sarah didn’t know if that moment was worth the emptiness is left behind, but she held onto it anyway, held onto the knowledge that he would never change, because he was Chuck.
Sarah walked out the door and closed it behind her. She leaned up against the door and tried to hold back her tears. Oh God, Chuck. He was still himself, somewhere underneath it all. Even if he was trapped inside his own head, even if he could never say he loved her, or even hold her hand, he was still Chuck.
Chuck looked back at her, an intensity in his eyes. “Sarah, I’ll always love you, okay? No matter what happens,” Chuck said.
Sarah felt a tear fall down her face and fall onto Chuck’s shirt. She nodded. “I know. And I’ll love you too. No matter what.”
Her Chuck. Always her Chuck.