Chapter 9
Song Recommendation – Boys Don't Cry – The Cure
Disclaimer – Unfortunately, I don't own Chuck.
Chapter 9 – Moving Forward – Part 1
Burbank, CA
The Buy More was exactly as loud and chaotic as always. Jeff and Lester argued over whether aliens had secretly invented Blu-ray technology. Big Mike yelled at them because someone had once again plugged a microwave into the same circuit as the display televisions.
Customers wandered aimlessly through the aisles, asking questions that made absolutely no sense.
Normally, Chuck would have smiled. Today, he barely looked up from the laptop he was repairing. The Buy More was usually the easiest place in the world for Chuck to hide behind humor, but even here the loss of Lou had followed him.
Morgan watched him from the Home Theater department.
For nearly an hour. Chuck hadn't made a single joke. Hadn't corrected Jeff's conspiracy theories. Hadn't laughed when Lester accidentally knocked over an entire display of headphones. He just worked.
Quietly.
Morgan frowned. "Uh-oh." He had known Chuck long enough to recognize the quiet withdrawal that had followed the breakup with Jill.
Later, Morgan waited until Chuck finished closing the Nerd Herd counter. "So…," Chuck looked up, "So?"
Morgan leaned against the counter. "You want to get together tonight?"
Chuck shrugged, "I don't know."
Morgan blinked. "You don't know?"
"Yeah."
"I was thinking maybe Call of Duty."
Chuck shook his head. "I'm kind of tired."
Morgan stared. Chuck had very seldom been too tired for Call of Duty.
Morgan forced a grin, "Pizza?"
"No thanks."
"Wings?"
"I'm okay."
"Star Wars marathon?"
Chuck smiled politely, "Maybe another time."
Morgan watched him gather his backpack. Then Chuck just walked away.
Morgan didn't move. He whispered to himself, "Crap, it's happening again."
XXXX
Casa Bartowski/Woodcomb
Burbank, CA
Ellie was putting leftovers into the refrigerator when Morgan let himself inside.
"You have that face," Ellie said.
Morgan frowned, "What face?"
"The something-is-wrong-with-Chuck face."
Morgan sighed, "It's happening again."
Ellie immediately stopped what she was doing. "What is?"
Morgan knew that expression. He lowered his voice, "The Jill thing."
He had seen it once before, years ago, when Chuck came home from Stanford. The difference this time was that Morgan knew exactly what was at stake. Chuck hadn't just lost a girlfriend. He had lost someone he genuinely loved.
Devon looked up from the dining room table. "What Jill thing?"
Morgan and Ellie exchanged a glance. Devon hadn't known Chuck back then.
Ellie quietly answered, "You weren't there right after Jill broke up with Chuck at Stanford."
Devon looked confused. "I know they broke up."
Morgan shook his head. "You know they broke up. You've only known the five years afterward. You never saw what happened to Chuck immediately after Jill broke up with him."
Devon slowly sat down. "What happened?"
Morgan didn't answer immediately. Instead, he looked toward Chuck's bedroom. The door was closed. Just like it had been back then.
Morgan spoke quietly, "He stopped living."
Devon frowned, "What do you mean?"
Morgan sighed, "I mean, now he goes to work. Comes home. Plays video games. Works on his computer. Goes to bed. He's been doing that every day for years since then. You've seen this part of Chuck, but at the beginning it was even worse."
Ellie's eyes softened. "When he came home after Stanford, he stopped dating. He stopped eating. He stopped taking care of himself. He stopped believing anybody could actually love him. He withdrew into himself. He smiled, but not really. He wouldn't let anyone in for the first couple months, and then it was just Morgan and me. It was the most horrible thing I've seen someone do. It was my little brother doing it, and I couldn't help him."
The memory still frightened her because she could see the same warning signs now.
Devon leaned back. "So what do we do?"
Morgan answered immediately, "We don't let it happen again."
XXXX
The following evening, Chuck was in his bedroom with the door closed. The room was dark except for the glow of his computer monitor, and even that small light seemed to emphasize how completely he had withdrawn.
Morgan barged in and sat on his bed, carrying pizza boxes. A twelve-pack of grape soda and a twelve-pack of Mountain Dew. Controllers. Three game consoles and a stack of science-fiction movies.
Chuck blinked. "What are you doing?"
Morgan smiled. "Intervention." He deliberately made the moment ridiculous because he knew that too much seriousness would make Chuck retreat behind another joke.
Chuck laughed weakly, "I don't think interventions usually involve pepperoni and grape soda."
"They should."
"Morgan…"
"No."
Morgan pointed at the television, "We're playing."
"I'm really not in the mood."
"I know."
"I'm serious."
"So am I."
Chuck looked tired. "I just want to go to bed."
Morgan shook his head. "No."
Chuck frowned. "Morgan…"
His best friend stood. For once, Morgan wasn't smiling.
"I already watched you disappear once."
Chuck froze.
Morgan continued quietly, "I'm not doing it again." He paused. "I watched you disappear once. I'm not standing by while it happens again."
Chuck looked away. "I'd rather not remember."
"Well, I do. I remember every damn day."
Chuck slowly looked back at him.
"You stopped calling. You stopped laughing. You stopped asking me to hang out. You acted like everything was fine… It wasn't."
Chuck swallowed. "I'll be okay." He wanted to believe the words. He wasn't sure whether he actually did.
Morgan immediately answered, "No. You'll survive. That's different. I don't want 'surviving' Chuck. I want my best friend back."
Neither of them spoke.
Finally, Chuck quietly admitted, "I really thought she was it." Saying it aloud made the loss feel different. He hadn't lost a girlfriend; he had lost a future he had started imagining.
Morgan nodded, "I know."
Several long seconds passed. Then Morgan picked up a controller, "So…"
Chuck looked at it, "So?"
"We can either shoot zombies, or you can sit here feeling miserable."
Chuck stared.
Morgan shrugged, "I'm cool either way."
Chuck couldn't help it. The corner of his mouth twitched.
Morgan pointed, "There."
Chuck frowned, "What?"
"I saw it."
"What?"
"A smile."
Chuck rolled his eyes, "It wasn't."
"It totally was."
Chuck sighed dramatically, "You are unbelievably annoying."
Morgan grinned, "I know, that's why I'm your best friend."
Chuck reached for the second controller.
Morgan thought to himself, "Good."
XXXX
Three hours later, "I TOTALLY SHOT THAT GUY!" Morgan yelled.
The laughter came easily now. It wasn't the same happiness Chuck had known with Lou. It didn't have to be. It was a different kind of healing, the kind that came from remembering he still belonged somewhere.
Chuck laughed, "No, you absolutely did not."
"He was mine!"
"You threw a grenade at your own feet!"
"It was tactical!"
"It was stupid!"
Morgan burst out laughing, "So was your driving!"
"I wasn't driving!"
"You stole my jeep!"
"You were using it wrong!"
Pizza boxes covered the coffee table. Grape soda and Mountain Dew cans were everywhere.
For the first time in days, Chuck laughed. A real laugh. For a few minutes, he wasn't the Intersect or the man who had sacrificed a relationship. He was just Morgan's best friend.
Around two in the morning, the game finally ended.
Morgan pretended to yawn, "You know"
Chuck looked over, "What?"
"I was kind of worried."
Chuck looked down, "I know."
Morgan shrugged, "You don't have to talk. You don't even have to be okay."
Chuck nodded.
"But…," Morgan smiled, "…you don't get to disappear."
Chuck looked at his best friend. "I'll try."
Morgan shook his head. "No. You'll call. You'll text. You'll come over, or I'll come over here. I'll drag you out if I have to."
"You probably would."
"Oh, I absolutely would."
XXXX
Morgan left just before sunrise. As he reached the front door, he looked back. Chuck was standing in the kitchen making coffee. Not staring blankly into space. Not hiding in his room. Morgan realized that sometimes helping someone heal began with something as simple as making sure they weren't alone.
Just making coffee, but now with a smile on his face.
Morgan said, "There's the Chuck I know."
Chuck looked confused. "What?"
"My best friend is smiling for the first time in a long time."
Chuck smiled again. A little bigger this time.
Morgan walked out the door knowing it wasn't over. Not even close. Chuck still had a long way to go. But for the first time since Chuck broke up with Lou, he wasn't walking that road alone.
XXXX
A month after Lou, Chuck had settled into a routine. It wasn't exciting. It wasn't particularly happy. But it was movement, and after the first weeks of grief, movement was enough.
Morgan still came over once a week for a video game marathon.
Ellie texted him every morning asking if he'd eaten breakfast. He usually lied. She usually knew. It was their quiet way of reminding him that he still had people who cared.
He usually lied.
She usually knew.
Life wasn't back to normal, but at least it was moving again.
XXXX
One morning, a loud knock echoed through Chuck's bedroom.
Another knock. Louder, "Chuck!"
He looked at the clock. 5:28 AM.
He knew only one person who was cheerful at five in the morning. Chuck shuffled to the door.
He had barely slept, and the last thing he wanted was to discover what kind of insane plan Devon had invented before sunrise.
Chuck stared at the coffee Devon had in his hand. For one second, he considered closing the door.
Then he remembered Morgan's warning. Don't disappear. He opened the door wider.
Devon stood outside wearing running shoes, athletic shorts, and a gray UCLA sweatshirt. He looked disgustingly awake.
"Morning, Chuck!"
Chuck squinted. "It's not."
Devon smiled. "It absolutely is."
Devon had already decided Chuck didn't need another lecture about heartbreak. He needed something physical, something outside his own head.
Chuck rubbed his eyes. "Awesome…"
"I brought coffee."
Chuck reached for it.
Devon pulled it back.
"After."
"After what?"
"Our run."
Chuck blinked. "Our what?"
Devon tossed a pair of running shoes into Chuck's hands. "We're going."
Chuck stared. "I don't run."
Devon grinned. "I know."
"I hate running."
"I know."
"I'm not built for running."
"Sure you are."
Chuck sighed. "So why are we doing this?" He wasn't really asking about running. He was asking why everyone around him seemed determined to keep pulling him back toward life.
Devon smiled, "Because you're built for something, and right now you've forgotten what."
XXXX
Twenty minutes later, "I hate you."
Devon laughed, "You've said that three times."
Chuck bent over with his hands on his knees. "I mean it more every time." His lungs burned, but underneath the discomfort he felt something he hadn't felt in weeks: present.
They hadn't even finished the first mile, and Chuck's lungs burned. His legs felt like concrete.
Devon looked perfectly comfortable. He hadn't even worked up a sweat yet.
"I don't understand how you're talking."
"I married your sister."
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"I had to learn endurance with Ellie."
Chuck rolled his eyes. "That doesn't even make sense."
"You don't know your sister like I do. She had me in a supply closet an hour after we first met."
They started jogging again. Chuck lasted another two hundred yards. Then stopped. "I think…," he gasped, "…I'm dying."
Devon slowed to a walk. "No. It just feels like it."
Chuck pointed accusingly, "You're enjoying this."
"I am."
"You're a terrible person."
Devon laughed, "Probably."
XXXX
For breakfast, they ended up at a small diner.
Chuck was halfway through a stack of pancakes. "I've never been this hungry before at breakfast."
Devon was drinking some sort of green drink containing wheat grass and algae that he brought with him. It smelled horrible.
He smiled, "Good."
Chuck looked suspicious. "You're doing something."
Devon shrugged, "Maybe."
"What?"
Devon stirred his coffee. "I've been watching you. I know that sounds creepy. "
Chuck looked up, "It really does."
"I've watched you come home. You go to work. Come home. Sleep. And then do the same thing every day after that."
Chuck quietly returned to eating.
Devon continued, "You spend all day inside your own head." He paused. "Running gives your brain something else to do. You have to breathe, move, pay attention. For a little while, you can't replay the same conversation over and over."
Chuck nodded slightly.
"Running changes that."
Chuck looked down at his pancakes. Maybe Devon was right. Maybe he couldn't solve what had happened with Lou, but he could decide what happened next.
"How?"
"You can't think when your lungs are screaming."
Chuck laughed despite himself, "That's actually true."
XXXX
The next morning, Chuck considered pretending not to be home. Another knock, "Chuck!"
He sighed, "I'm coming."
Devon smiled, that same damn morning smile, "Ready?"
"No."
"Excellent."
XXXX
Buy More
Burbank, CA
Morgan wandered through the Buy More. He had been watching Chuck closely without making it obvious, and the change was small but unmistakable.
Chuck looked up, "What?"
Morgan narrowed his eyes, "Your shirt."
"What about it?"
"It's…," Morgan poked Chuck's shoulder, "…less squishy."
Chuck laughed. "I've been running." The admission was almost embarrassing, but it was also the first time he had talked about something new he was doing just because it made him feel better.
Morgan looked horrified. "Voluntarily?"
"No. Awesome keeps showing up."
Morgan nodded knowingly, "Oh, so you've been kidnapped."
"Basically."
XXXX
Castle
Burbank, CA
Casey waited inside the training room. He had noticed the change in Chuck's physical conditioning and wanted to know whether it would translate into something useful in the field.
Casey watched Chuck get back to his feet. There was no flash of brilliance. No Intersect download. No shortcut. Just repetition.
For Chuck, that might have been the most important lesson of all.
Casey told him. "Again."
Chuck sighed, "Seriously?"
Casey tossed him a padded training knife. "You wanted to learn some field training."
"I do."
"Then stop talking."
Chuck charged. Thirty seconds later… he was flat on his back.
Casey grunted, "Again."
The second attempt lasted longer. Forty-five seconds. Chuck still lost. But he got up immediately. Casey noticed that the important part wasn't how badly Chuck had lost. It was how quickly he had decided to try again.
Casey noticed and grunted.
"What?"
"Nothing."
Again.
Chuck attacked.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Every time, he recovered a little faster.
Sarah watched from the training room door. She recognized something she hadn't seen in Chuck since before the breakup: determination that wasn't driven by fear.
Casey walked out. "You notice Bartowski?"
Sarah nodded, "He gets up quicker."
Casey folded his arms. "Has he been training?"
Sarah shook her head, "Not with us."
Another round. Chuck landed awkwardly. Rolled. Recovered.
Back on his feet before Casey expected.
Casey raised an eyebrow, "Again."
Chuck grinned, "I almost had you."
"No."
"It felt closer."
"You weren't."
Chuck laughed, almost a real laugh, "Worth a shot."
After training, Casey handed Chuck a bottle of water. "You've been working out."
Chuck unscrewed the cap. "Awesome, makes me run."
Casey nodded once. "Good." For Casey, the word carried more meaning than a speech ever could. Chuck was beginning to rebuild himself.
Chuck looked surprised. "That's it?"
"What?"
"I thought there'd be more yelling or mocking me."
Casey took a sip of coffee. "Running builds endurance."
"So?"
"So don't stop."
That was as close to praise as Casey usually gave. Chuck smiled all the way upstairs to the Buy More.
XXXX
Casa Bartowski/Woodcomb
Burbank, CA
Weeks later, Mornings with Devon had become routine. Chuck still complained, but the complaints had become part of the ritual rather than an attempt to escape it.
Mile one. Chuck still complained.
Mile two. Less complaining.
Mile three. Actual conversation.
Devon noticed, "You know, I haven't had to drag you out of bed this week."
Chuck thought about it, "Huh."
"You were waiting at the door."
"I was."
Devon smiled, "You know why?"
Chuck shrugged, "No."
"Because this stopped being about trying to get over Lou."
Chuck slowed.
Devon continued, "It's about you." He slowed beside Chuck. "Not Lou. Not anyone else. You're figuring out who you are, and who you want to be."
They reached a hill overlooking Burbank. The morning sun stretched across the city, and for several seconds Chuck stood there and looked. Chuck stood, catching his breath. "This is actually…"
He looked around, "…kind of beautiful."
Devon smiled, "I know."
"I've lived here for years. I've never seen this."
"It's awesome."
Chuck looked over. "You planned this."
Devon shrugged innocently. "Maybe."
"Thanks, Captain."
Devon smiled. Chuck had called him Captain before as a joke. This time, it sounded almost affectionate.
That was another sign that the old Chuck was returning.
XXXX
Sunday dinner. Ellie placed another helping of lasagna onto Chuck's plate. "Chuck, you look better."
Chuck smiled. "I feel better." He knew he wasn't completely healed. He still missed Lou. But the sadness no longer filled every empty space.
Morgan immediately interrupted, "Correction. You smell worse."
Chuck laughed, "I ran six miles this morning."
Morgan nearly choked on his drink. "Six?!"
Devon grinned proudly, "He wanted to do eight."
"I did not."
"You absolutely did."
Chuck pointed across the table. "That, Awesome, is slander."
Ellie laughed. "I haven't heard you joke like this in weeks."
Chuck looked around. At his sister. His brother-in-law. His best friend.
The people who had quietly refused to let him fall apart.
For Chuck, their persistence had become its own kind of safety. Nobody was asking him to pretend Lou hadn't mattered. They were reminding him that losing one part of his life didn't mean he had to lose everything else.
He smiled, "Thanks."
The table became quiet. Everyone understood that Chuck wasn't thanking them for fixing him. He was thanking them for refusing to let him disappear while he figured out how to fix himself.
Morgan looked confused, "For what?"
Chuck answered honestly, "For not giving up on me."
Ellie reached over and squeezed his hand. "As if that was ever an option."
Chuck looked around the table. For the first time, he understood that moving forward didn't mean leaving these people behind.
They were the reason he could move forward at all.
XXXX
Castle
Burbank, CA
General Beckman's face appeared on the main monitor. The training exercise was routine on paper, but Beckman had been following Chuck's progress closely.
"Agent Walker. Major Casey. Mr. Bartowski."
"Today's exercise will simulate an extended pursuit through an urban environment."
Chuck smiled to himself. For the first time, that didn't sound impossible. Months earlier, the idea of keeping pace with trained agents would have terrified him.
Now it sounded like a challenge.
Casey noticed, "So…"
Chuck looked over, "So?"
"You ready?"
Chuck nodded, "Yeah."
He surprised himself with the answer. He actually was.
Sarah watched Chuck prepare for the exercise. She didn't see a man who had forgotten Lou. She saw a man who was beginning to understand that grief and recovery could exist at the same time.
That was progress.
As the exercise began, Chuck found himself keeping pace far longer than he ever had before. The physical conditioning had changed more than his endurance. It had changed his confidence.
His breathing stayed steady. His legs didn't immediately tire. When the simulation ended, Casey looked down at the timer before looking back up at Chuck.
"You shaved almost three minutes off your previous time."
"Seriously?"
Casey gave a single approving nod. "Seriously."
Sarah smiled from across the room. "Looks like those early mornings with Devon are paying off."
Chuck laughed. "Don't tell him you said that. It'll go straight to his head."
As Chuck headed for the door up to the Orange Orange to begin another shift at the Buy More, neither he nor Devon realized what had really happened.
The morning runs had started as therapy. Without intending to, they had also become the first step toward transforming an ordinary computer nerd into someone who could keep up with spies. More importantly, Chuck was learning that moving forward didn't mean forgetting Lou. It meant learning how to carry the loss without letting it stop his life.
XXXX
End Chapter 9