Chuck versus The Last Wish

Chapter 21 – Han shot first…

Sarah closed the balcony door quietly behind her.

The room was cooler than the humid terrace outside, filled with the steady hum of the air conditioner and the squeak of Morgan's whiteboard marker. Maps, printed articles, and old FBI reports littered the bed alongside photos from the Harrison estate. Chuck didn't look up, his fingers moving across the keyboard. Morgan drew another line on the whiteboard. “Okay… so Harrison knew Moore from here, Moore connected to Ingram, and Ingram…” He paused. “Wow. This looks like a really depressing family tree.”

Chuck offered a faint smile. “Yeah… except in this family, everybody's trying to kill everybody else.”

Sarah walked over, her eyes scanning the scattered papers. “Find anything?”

Chuck leaned back and rubbed his eyes. “More like we found nothing.”

Morgan capped the marker. “Harrison's finances are clean—campaign foundations, personal accounts, everything. That investigation ten years ago really turned everything inside out.”

Chuck nodded. “If there was evidence, they either took it…” He paused. “Or the whole thing was never really about the money.”

Sarah thought back to the photograph on Harrison's mantle: Mariana, Moore, and Harrison standing shoulder to shoulder. “We're looking at the wrong person,” she said quietly.

Chuck looked up. “What?”

“Harrison can't answer our questions anymore.” Sarah set the photo from the estate onto the bed. “But there's someone in that picture who still can.”

Morgan and Chuck exchanged a glance. “Mariana…”

Morgan stood up, pointing at the printout. “Harrison didn't just know them—he was the connection between them.”

Sarah nodded. “Neither of them was standing beside him just for a charity photo op.”

Chuck began pacing the small room. “Moore moved money.”

“Mariana worked the field,” Sarah added.

“And Harrison was the politician.”

Morgan frowned. “So…”

“He connected their worlds,” Chuck said, stopping in his tracks.

Outside, the deep rumble of a helicopter swept over the hotel before fading into the city noise.

Chuck walked to the whiteboard, pulling down the magnet for Harrison's name. “Harrison's dead. But if we want to know what happened ten years ago…” He uncapped a marker and wrote: MARIANA?

Sarah stepped beside him. “Moore is dead, too.”

“Which leaves Mariana,” Chuck nodded.

Morgan stared at the fresh ink. “Small problem.”

Chuck raised an eyebrow. “Which is?”

“We have absolutely no idea where she is.”

Sarah folded her arms, that familiar, steel-eyed determination settling back over her features. “Then that's our next assignment.”

Chuck watched her quietly. Something about her felt subtly shifted since she’d stepped back inside—her gaze lingering on him with a soft, protective weight he couldn't quite place.

He offered a firm nod. “Okay. Let's find Mariana.”

XXXXXXXXXXX

The room finally fell quiet. Morgan had gone to his room, leaving only the steady hum of the air conditioner. Washington's lights filtered through the gap in the curtains.

With a tired sigh, Chuck sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed both hands over his face. “I think I've had enough politics for one week.”

Sarah smiled, stepping quietly behind him. Chuck didn't notice until her fingers settled on his shoulders.

“Hm?”

“Don't move.”

“Was that… an order?”

“Yes.”

Chuck straightened. Sarah pressed her thumbs into the knot in his shoulders, making him wince.

“Whoa…”

“Are you really that tense?” Sarah asked with a faint smile.

“I think my spine is made of Excel spreadsheets at this point.”

Sarah let out a quiet laugh. “Is that a medical diagnosis?”

“A geek diagnosis.”

For a few seconds, neither spoke as Sarah massaged his shoulders, kneading away the day's tension inch by inch. A distant horn drifted up from the street below, and somewhere above the city, a helicopter rumbled across the night sky.

“Can I ask you something?” Sarah spoke quietly.

Chuck closed his eyes. “Sure.”

“Will you tell me another story? Something that… makes you happy.”

Chuck laughed softly. “That's a pretty broad category.”

“Then pick one.”

He thought for a moment. “One Halloween, Morgan and I dressed up as Dune sandworms.”

Sarah laughed. “That's already absurd, and you've only said one sentence.”

“Wait, you haven't heard the best part.”

Sarah ran her fingers along the back of his neck. “I'm listening.”

Chuck launched into the story, the exhaustion fading from his voice as Sarah listened, laughing softly. “And what was I dressed as?”

Chuck smiled. “Princess Leia, in the slave bikini.”

Sarah's hands paused  “Me?”

“The old you.”

“I actually wore that?” 

“Voluntarily.”

Sarah raised an incredulous eyebrow. “I don't believe you.”

“I didn't either. But you looked really good.”

A soft, warm smile touched the corner of Sarah's eyes. “Flattering.”

“Just stating a historical fact.”

Sarah resumed massaging his shoulders, her thumbs working gentle circles as Chuck's voice grew heavy with sleep.

“…and then Morgan's foot got caught in an extension cord…” He trailed off.

Sarah leaned down. “Chuck?”

“I'm listening…”

“That didn't sound like it.”

Chuck smiled sleepily. “It's just… really nice.”

Sarah brushed a hand gently through his hair. “Then don't talk.”

Chuck closed his eyes. For several minutes, only the hum of the air conditioner filled the room as Chuck's shoulders loosened completely. “Lie down for a while,” Sarah whispered.

Chuck shifted onto his stomach. Sarah sat beside him, her fingers finding the tense muscles at the base of his neck. Chuck exhaled contentedly. “Sarah…”

“Yes?”

“I think we should make this part of the official mission protocol.”

Sarah smiled. “What should we call it?”

Chuck opened one eye. “Mandatory Pampering During Mission Operations.”

Sarah laughed softly. “Approved.”

Her fingers moved patiently across his shoulders and hair until Chuck's breathing evened out into deep sleep. Sarah stayed beside him, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his forehead. Chuck sighed gently in his sleep.

“Good night, Chuck.”

For the first time, Chuck wasn't the one watching over her—she was watching over him. She pulled the blanket over his shoulders, looked at him for another moment, then slipped quietly out into the hall. Sarah knocked softly on Morgan's door.

“Come in.”

Morgan set his laptop aside as she entered. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” Sarah closed the door behind her.

“What's up?” Morgan asked.

Sarah took a breath. “Tell me about Chuck.”

Morgan smiled. “That's a pretty broad request.”

“I know.”

“What do you want to know?”

Sarah thought for a moment. “What was he like… when I first met him?”

Morgan leaned back. “Well… exactly like this.”

“Really?”

“Sure. Fewer bullets flying around, but same guy.”

Morgan continued, “He always wanted to save everyone. Even when nobody asked him to.”

“That hasn't changed?”

“Just look at him.”

Morgan looked down, his tone softening. “You know… Chuck always thought it was some kind of miracle when you fell in love with him.”

Sarah looked at him curiously. “Why?”

“Because he thinks you're the most amazing woman in the world,” Morgan said with a warm smile. “Beautiful, confident, smart… and him, well, he's just Chuck.”

Sarah looked down at her hands. “He really thought that?”

“Constantly,” Morgan laughed. “Even when it was obvious you were crazy about him, he kept thinking one day you'd wake up and find someone better. He even postponed proposing when he lost the Intersect because he thought he wasn't good enough for you.”

Sarah went quiet, her voice barely a whisper. “You're kidding” a soft, touched smile filled her face. “He's amazing.”

Morgan smiled. “Yeah.” He paused, looking at her. “It's good to hear you say that. Chuck has a tendency to forget.”

Sarah glanced toward the wall separating them from Chuck. “Then I'll remind him more often.”

Morgan grinned. “Prepare yourself.”

“For what?”

“He'll blush. Every single time.”

Sarah laughed softly. “Then it'll be worth it.”

Morgan nodded. “Yeah… it'll be worth it.”

XXXXXXXXXXX

Sarah opened the door quietly.

The room was lit only by the city's distant glow. Chuck was still asleep exactly as she'd left him, one arm resting over the blanket, his breathing slow and even.

Sarah walked over to the bed, watching him for a quiet moment before carefully slipping in beside him.

In his sleep, Chuck turned toward her.

Sarah smiled, listening to the steady rhythm of his breath. She leaned closer, her voice barely a whisper: “You're amazing, Chuck Bartowski.”

Then, almost silently, she added, “You're my home.”

She brushed her fingers across his cheek. In his sleep, Chuck instinctively moved closer, wrapping an arm around her waist. Sarah held him tight, letting the night carry them both away.

XXXXXXXXXXX

The apartment door swung open, and Chuck pushed the suitcases inside.

Morgan called out from across the courtyard.

"At eight?"

"Eight!" Chuck called back, waving.

They finished unpacking, and Sarah collapsed onto the couch.

"It's good to be home."

XXXXXXXXXXX

The garlic sizzled softly in the pan as Alex stirred it with a wooden spoon, holding out a cutting board to Sarah.

“Could you dice the peppers?”

Sarah nodded. “Sure.”

For a few seconds, the steady tap of the knife against the board was the only sound in the kitchen.

Alex glanced sideways at her. “So…”

Sarah looked up. “So?”

“How was the cabin?”

Sarah thought for a moment. “Strange.”

“In a bad way?”

“No.” A small smile crossed her face.

Alex smiled, when Sarah gave a quiet nod. “Pleasant.”

“Morgan already mentioned it.”

Sarah let out a soft laugh. “I figured.”

“Keeping secrets isn't exactly his strong suit.”

“I've noticed that.”

XXXXXXXXXXX

Chuck and Morgan sat on the living room couch, CIA reports, Harrison's files, and Mariana's name open side by side on the laptop screen.

Chuck sighed, scrolling through another news feed. “Nothing on Mariana.”

Morgan leaned over his shoulder. “Scroll down.”

Chuck reluctantly kept scrolling. “Explosion of unknown origin at a port in Panama…”

“Average Tuesday.”

“Two researchers disappeared in Zurich.”

“That too.”

“Unknown hackers shut down the Singapore stock exchange for twenty-three minutes.”

Morgan shrugged. “The world's a weird place.”

Chuck closed the browser window. “Yeah… but none of it is Mariana.”

“Nothing.”

Morgan scratched his chin. “That's suspicious.”

“What?”

“That there's nothing. This much nothing.”

Chuck closed another tab. “Mariana erased every digital trace she had.”

Morgan went quiet for a moment. “Listen…”

“Hm?”

“When are you going to tell Sarah?”

Chuck's fingers froze over the keyboard. “Tell her what?”

“About Mariana.”

“I don't know.”

“But you should.”

“I know.”

“So?”

Chuck exhaled. “Morgan… you can't just drop something like this into the middle of dinner.”

“Why not?”

Chuck looked at him, lowering his voice. “How do you think I should start?” He raised a hand toward an imaginary table. “‘Sarah, could you pass the Parmesan? Oh, by the way, two years ago someone tried to create a second version of you and uploaded it into the brain of an extremely dangerous terrorist… who eventually became Sarah Walker?!’”

Morgan grimaced. “Okay… yeah, that would be weird.”

“See?”

“After dessert?”

Chuck rolled his eyes.

Alex poked her head out of the kitchen. “What are you two whispering about?”

Chuck and Morgan looked up simultaneously. After a tense beat, Morgan blurted, “Whether Han shot first!”

Chuck turned toward him in disbelief. “Morgan, seriously?”

“What?”

Alex frowned. “Really?”

Chuck sighed. “Han shot first.”

Morgan objected. “Not in the Special Edition!”

“That doesn't count!”

“But it's official!”

“Morgan, just because Lucas rewrote something twenty years later doesn't mean it changes the past!”

“Of course it changes it! That's canon!”

“The original is canon!”

“The Special Edition is official!”

“So you think if they put an Ewok in front of the cafeteria tomorrow, it means it was always there?”

“If it looks good…”

“Morgan!”

Alex burst out laughing.

Sarah watched from the doorway as Chuck stood waving his hands around while Morgan defended his position with absolute gravity.

A warm smile spread across Sarah's face.

“Aren't they cute?” Alex asked quietly.

Sarah didn't take her eyes off Chuck. “They are.”

Steam hissed loudly from the pan.

Alex whipped around. “The sauce!”

“Let's save that one,” Sarah remarked with a smile.

From the living room, Chuck's desperate protest drifted back: “Morgan, ‘it looks better’ is not an argument!”

XXXXXXXXXXX

The doorbell cut sharply through the morning silence. Sarah sleepily opened her eyes.

“I'll get it.”

Chuck mumbled something unintelligible into his pillow as Sarah pulled on a thin robe and walked barefoot into the hall.

The doorbell rang again. She opened the door to a delivery driver.

“Yes?”

“Registered delivery for Charles Irving Bartowski. Can you sign for it?”

“Sure.”

She signed the pad, and the driver handed her a thick, cream-colored envelope. “Have a nice day.”

“Thank you.”

Sarah closed the door and turned the envelope over. In the corner, the name of a Washington law firm was embossed in gold lettering.

Chuck emerged from the bedroom, messy-haired and half-asleep.  “Who was it?”

Sarah held out the envelope. “This came for you.”

Chuck yawned. “If it's a bill, it's not mine.”

Sarah laughed. “Doesn't look like one.”

Chuck opened it, scanned the first page, stopped, and read it again.

“Hm.”

“What is it?”

“Wait…” He turned the page. “No.”

“Chuck?”

“This has to be some kind of scam.”

“Why?”

Chuck held up the letter. “They're saying that, as part of an estate proceeding, an asset was transferred to me, but I have to pay the processing fee first.”

Sarah took the papers. “How much?”

“Three hundred and forty dollars.”

Sarah scanned the text. “Doesn't look fake.”

Chuck laughed. “Sarah… that's exactly what makes it good.”

“What?”

“This is the classic Nigerian prince scam.”

“Nigerian?”

“Yeah. Or Sudanese. Or some prince somewhere. Doesn't matter. The point is, ‘Congratulations! You've inherited a fortune. Send us a little money and it's all yours.’”

Sarah looked at the letter again. “There's no mention of a prince.”

“Yet.”

“And they're not promising millions.”

“Yet.”

“Chuck…”

“Sarah, I've gotten emails telling me I won a British lottery when I've never bought a British lottery ticket in my life.”

Sarah smiled. “So we throw it out?”

Chuck headed for the trash can without hesitation. “Absolutely.”

He was about to drop the envelope in when Sarah spoke. “Although…”

Chuck stopped. “Yeah?”

“It wouldn't cost anything to call the law firm.”

Chuck looked at her. “And that's exactly what they want.”

“For you to call them?”

“I don't know. But there's definitely some kind of trap in this.”

Sarah smiled gently. “You really see a conspiracy in everything.”

Chuck looked down at the envelope. “Sarah… after five years with the CIA and a lifetime of twelve-dollar-an-hour jobs, this is basically an occupational hazard.”

XXXXXXXXXXX

The quiet clinking of spoons against cereal bowls was the only sound in the kitchen until Chuck set his spoon down.

“Sarah… I need to tell you something.”

Sarah looked up. “Please don't tell me we're not actually married and you guys just made the whole thing up to seduce me.”

Chuck couldn't help smiling, though the expression faded quickly. “There's something I don't want to keep from you anymore.”

Sarah immediately saw how serious he was. “Okay.”

Chuck took a deep breath. “If we find Mariana… you need to know she's not herself anymore.”

Sarah set down her mug. “Chuck, how do you know her?”

“We've met.”

“When?”

“Years ago. At first, she tried to kill us… then Morgan brought her home.”

Sarah blinked. “Morgan… brought her home?”

Chuck nodded. “It's a long story.”

“I believe you.” A faint smile touched the corner of her mouth. “That sounds very Morgan.”

“It is,” Chuck agreed.

Silence settled between them before Sarah spoke again. “Why do you say she's not herself?”

Chuck's gaze dropped to his mug. “Because someone took her identity away from her.”

“What do you mean?”

Chuck slowly raised his eyes. “A company called MARS experimented on people years ago. Not just with the Intersect… but with memories, too. They tried to implant another person's personality into Mariana.”

“Whose?”

Chuck swallowed hard. “Yours.”

The apartment fell completely silent.

He continued carefully, “When we last saw her… she thought she was Sarah Walker.”

Sarah closed her eyes for a moment and exhaled slowly. When she opened them, her expression was calm. “That's why you were afraid to tell me.”

Chuck nodded. “Yeah.”

“You thought I'd be scared.”

“Yeah.”

Sarah sat in silence before rising to pour another cup of coffee . Standing with her back to Chuck, she asked, “You know what's interesting?”

Chuck didn't answer.

“A few weeks ago, I probably would've fallen apart over this.” She turned around, meeting his gaze. “Now… I just feel bad for Mariana.”

Chuck looked at her in surprise.

Sarah sat back down beside him. “If someone really believes she's me…” She paused. “That must be horrible.”

Chuck nodded softly. “Yeah.”

Sarah watched the steam rising from her coffee before looking up. “Thank you…”

Chuck waited.

“…for telling me.”

She wasn't smiling or crying—she simply meant it.

That was when Chuck noticed her right hand gripping the mug's handle a little tighter than usual.bWithout a word, he placed his hand gently over hers. Sarah stroked his fingers softly. “Let's go to work,” she said at last.

XXXXXXXXXXX

At Castle, Chuck set his backpack down beside the main console.

Morgan immediately strode over to him. “Well?”

Chuck looked up. “I told her.”

“About Mariana?”

“Over breakfast.”

Morgan stared at him expectantly. “And?”

Chuck shrugged. “She took it surprisingly well.”

“Really?”

“At the end, all she said was that she thanked me for telling her.”

Morgan stared at him in silence for a few seconds, then abruptly turned on his heel.

“Where are you going?” Chuck asked.

“The armory.”

“Why?”

“I'm getting a bulletproof vest.”

Chuck stared at him in confusion. “Morgan…”

“Chuck, I've known Sarah for years.”

“And?”

“That woman doesn't explode immediately.” Morgan nodded solemnly. “She processes it first.”

“Morgan…”

“Then she explodes.”

Chuck sighed. “That is not helping. Sarah's not going to shoot me.”

Morgan paused to consider it. “Okay… I'll get you one, too.”