Terminatrix7
A/N: This is the final chapter. It twists and turns and goes from bubble gum to serious stuff. Some may like it and some may hate it but it's what comes out of the characters for me.
NSA/CIA Medical Facility
On the 5th day the doctors took him off the respirator and injected drugs into his IV port to allow him to transit from induced coma to normal unconsciousness to sleep. For Sarah Walker it had been 3 days of boredom and 3 of anguish. She'd spent as much of her time with him as possible. She read to him. She told him stories of her earlier life, before the CIA, she told him how much she loved him and how she had definite plans for them at least in the immediate future. And she cried a lot. She cried because she did not see herself in any of her planned futures. She'd given up all hope and now was just going through the motions. Finally she just left him. She got in her Porsche and went for a drive. Maybe some ocean air and high-speed winds would cleanse her spirits. If she'd only waited 20 more minutes. But she hadn't.
Casey had curtailed all monitoring. He didn't care what Beckman thought. Too much information, emotion and heartache were not good for his psyche. He was having problems keeping the terminator at bay. So he didn't know that Sarah Walker had taken leave of her senses and building.
Tina told him all she knew about up-time Sarah and Chuck. It really wasn't relevant to the here and now but there were surprising bits of information that showed what a future Chuck and Casey would be like. Both were amazingly resilient and had maintained their same strong core values, even in different realities.
The other issue was the terminator. Casey found himself forgetting that she was a construct, a machine whose sole purpose was to destroy human beings in any way possible, to terminate the entire species as a plague upon the planet ruled by SkyNet. Intellectually, he knew she was a talking clock, a toaster oven, a computer with legs and apparent emotions, a robot, a cyborg, a terminator. It was emotionally that he was having his crisis.
She was a delight to be around. She answered his questions truthfully and fully, sometimes too truthfully and almost always too fully. There were some things he didn't believe anyone should know but she didn't know that and answered every question in the same manner. She was beautiful, with dancing eyes and brown hair that hinted at blonde highlights in the sun. His thoughts kept him from meeting her eyes.
She was brutally frank with him about all things. She told him directly and without remorse that in the up-time he had been her secondary target and that she would have terminated him without a second thought had it not been for the rape camps Larkin had established as a relief for frustrated human troops who daily faced the horrors of personal extinction. There was probably more, but that was enough.
Finally, on the day after Chuck was removed from the respirator she asked Casey the question. Several questions.
"Colonel, am I now that repulsive to you that you will not meet my eyes? Is what I am such an abomination that you cannot abide my touch? Would you rather I simply disappear and wait for my power source to expend itself and become a brief flash of light and heat and then be no more?"
"No, oh, Tina, no. It's just that, well, I don't do well with women. They say I'm too emotionally closed off. I am. Closed off, I mean. It's not easy having ready emotions in my job. I'm a terminator, too, in this time. We are alike but you are so very alive. I don't think" and she put her fingers on his lips stopping his 'long, prepared speech'.
"We are alike. So why shouldn't we be together? We need each other. We are the missing halves, the human half and the machine half. Some would say you are the machine and I the human. What do we care? I have missed you, John. I have missed my General. Please?"
Chuck Bartowski was awake. He catalogued his status even though his eyes were closed. No scent of vanilla mixed in with the disinfectant, just straight hospital stench. He could move his arms so he was not in restraints or Sarah was not in the room. She would not have left him alone so someone else must be here. His GSW itched but didn't ache so he knew some time had passed. He wasn't quite sure what had happened this time. They were talking and he couldn't breathe and then, well, he thought he'd died. But apparently he hadn't.
He opened his eyes and saw he was alone. Just him and the machinery. He picked up the sheet and saw the chest tube and shunts and knew it was his lung again. He also saw the damned Foley catheter and knew what that meant. He'd been unconscious for a very long time. Well, shit.
He looked around and saw his trusty shoot-up-with-the-good-stuff button had been taped to his hand so all he had to do was squeeze his hand or push against the mattress and he'd be flooded with the good stuff. He also saw the call button. As much as he wanted to feel good he needed information more.
Since he was the only patient his room became Grand Central Station. Everyone he knew from the Castle mission and some doctors and staff he recognized from his previous moments of consciousness were there. All except a certain blonde. He sighed. Must have been a dream. He knew she'd been reading to him, talking to him, crying to him. It must have been the drugs. She'd apparently opted for Peru after all. He wasn't certain what memories were real and which were fabrications of his own selfishness. Now he knew.
Casey looked around the room. No Walker. He'd awakened alone again. He squeezed Tina's hand and nodded toward Chuck and released he hand. Mentally he said "Go see him, he needs you."
"Hey, ugly bad of water, you scared the crap out of us. Really bad form almost dying on your ladylove. Good thing she was here, ugly bag, or you would have died, drowned in your own blood. Kinda poetic, don't ya think?"
"Where is she? On her way to Peru? I thought I heard her talking to me while I was out of it…well, it doesn't matter what I thought. How you and the colonel getting along? And don't lie to me. I don't leave hickies on girls' necks."
"Chuck, I don't know where she is. She left sometime this morning or early afternoon. We weren't sure when you'd come back to us. And as for me and John, well, what can I say? He's my General from my reality but so much less bitter and closed-off. You don't mind, do you? We both thought you and Sar."
"No, no, I don't mind. I'm happy for you, Toaster Oven. I'll always be a little bit in love with you so don't mind me if I start shooting the Colonel dirty smirks from time to time. And how can another human being be more closed-off than Casey of this reality? I mean, my God…"
She laughed but felt the uncomfortable stirring of guilt. Something that wasn't in her programs. She hadn't ever wanted to hurt Chuck. But she had. And she knew that he had automatically forgiven her and wanted to see her happy. And if she could be happy, she was.
Where the hell was Sarah Walker? He was so vulnerable now thinking she'd left him and gone on with this reality's Bryce Larkin. Tina vowed that if that were the truth she would hunt them both down and kill them.
Casey had called Walker's cell when they got word he was awake but it went straight to voicemail. He had a feeling she was at the beach. Their beach. She needed to be here, damn it, here, and right now. Casey was furious with her. She'd left without word leaving Chuck alone. A no-no even in a CIA/NSA facility. Especially not when he's unconscious.
He called her again and this time there was no mistaking the anger in his voice. "Sarah Walker, get your selfish, self-pitying ass back to the facility immediately. You left without word, destination or notice. You left him alone. And now he's awake and very much aware of all the wrong damned things. He heard you talking to him, telling him secrets, but he thinks it was just his own selfishness projecting on his unconscious mind."
"You may have screwed the pooch on this one, Walker. And God help you and Larkin if you're on your way to Peru. You're both walking dead. There'll be an angry terminator in both your futures. And she's pissed at you all ready."
Sarah at the Beach
I knew I'd end up here at our beach. I have so many good memories about this place. I first made real contact with him here. I asked him to trust me here. I played him here. OK, so that's not a good memory. But I've learned lately that good and bad are always together. I love the idiot. He's an idiot to think I'd ever leave him for the RatBastard. I killed the up-time Bryce. I won't have any qualms about doing the same to this Bryce if it's a choice between Chuck and him.
I want a life with him. Babies. Two at least. I'm no spring chicken so they'll come close after the wedding. And I want to get married right here on this spot. A few friends and that's it. Tina can be my maid of honor. Casey can be best man. Maybe Morgan but then that means Ellie will find out and the shit will hit the fan. Definitely Casey.
If not here, then Vegas. Tina will love Vegas. I'll bet she can count cards. She can pay for the honeymoon with her talents. But mostly I just want to know that I've got him. That he's mine and no one can ever take him away from me. I'll be his as long as I live.
He's never been a job. That's my public persona talking. He's always been my Chuck, the one I come home to at night in my dreams, the one I fight with, the one I nag to get a hair cut, the one I…
Ah, shit. Agents don't cry. Agents don't feel. I'm a CIA Agent and I do both of those. Which am I? Which one will let me realize my dream? Not the CIA. Decision made. I quit. We'll figure something out together.
I'm going back and get started on the rest of our lives. Screw Beckman and anyone else. I will have my cake and eat him er it too. God, Chuck, you make me so horny.
NSA/CIA Medical Facility
90 minutes later
Sarah Walker strolled down the hall and into Chuck's room. She saw he was still asleep and that all the tubes and wires were now history. Good. Nothing between him and me but sweat. She turned and locked the door and checked that the red light on the CCTV was out. Good. Casey's still keeping it down. Wonderful.
She stripped everything off. Just left on the necklace he'd given her for their cover Valentine's Day date. He had no idea how much it meant to her. She wore as often as the job and cover allowed.
She pulled back the sheet and slipped in beside him. She stretched her entire naked body down his side, rested her head on his shoulder and just watched him breathe. When she was sure he was still asleep she started talking to him.
"Hi, Chuck, my name is…"
There was that damned dream voice again. Her voice and it was telling him who she was, where and when she was born, all about growing up and then joining the CIA. She said there were some things she would never tell him because he was a good man with a strong moral compass and she knew he'd hate her for what she'd done in the name of the greater good. She finally brought her story up to the present time.
"and so, sitting there on our beach I decided that the CIA would have to do without the services on one Sarah Walker because I intend to get married and knocked up as soon as you're in shape to perform the tasks and I don't care which one comes first. And you're never, ever allowed to wash Tina's hair again unless you open a beauty salon. No more sandwiches at Lou's. Besides they're not good for you. I want to get married on our beach or in Vegas. Tina can be Maid of Honor and Casey can be your best man. I love you and I know you love me. So, wake up and ask me to marry you so I can scratch this off my To Do list. Please, Chuck, wake up and ask me. Please?"
Chuck's POV
The scent of Vanilla fills my nostrils and I am definitely awake. I've been awake since 'name is…' and that's been a real battle since she's lying on the hand that triggers the Demerol drip. The same as last time. Kept trying to tell her 'don't lay on my hand' but she either couldn't hear me or couldn't understand me. I figured she was just playing me. There was a lot in her voice and her narrative that told me Bryce was still her main man mentally despite her protestations. I mean, really? Secret Agent Man vs. BuyMoreMan? No contest. That was the last time though. This time, well, she was different.
Thank God someone must have adjusted the dosage because this time I was able to remain awake, just on the brink of sleep the whole time. I love Demerol. Drug of choice for GSW victims. Of course all that naked warm skin rubbing against me has helped a whole lot too. Bless whoever removed the Foley catheter. I'm gonna need that soon, I hope.
Married? Somehow, I guess if I'm going to be with Sarah Walker it would have to be married. It didn't work well for my folks (and now I know why) and I haven't seen a lot of success stories around town but then this is California where partners and underwear get changed almost as frequently.
The beach is nice but Vegas has a certain appeal to me. I go to the beach all the time and if, repeat to my self several times, if things went typically California, I'd hate to lose my favorite spot for thinking and drinking because it would dredge up too many negatives. Let's face it, I know that there's no way she'll ever kiss the CIA off. She might tell herself that but I think she knows she's still on her original mission.
Besides, a lot of what she told me didn't flick a flash. Most did, but some of the hairier stuff, nope, nothing, sfechula, nada. So I have to wonder, was the info sanitized for my consumption or was it a lie? Is she playing me, again? It's not like she doesn't have a history of it. Does she really want to get married? Or is this just a continuation of the deep cover? And was the Blue Pill my subconscious warning me that my relationships with women cause heartbreak and that maybe this one will cause my death?
While I was under after being shot I'd been caught in a flash that wouldn't stop. I don't know whether it was because of the trauma or drugs but I know I flashed for a long time.
I flashed on files that were older than dirt. Files that formed 'test databases'.
I found my father. He was a CIA 'asset'. My father was the lead scientist on the original architecture project that became the intersect. I found my mother. She was his handler. I know why she left. Her assignment was over. Now I know why there are no pictures of my parents together, or even a single picture of my mother anywhere in our stuff. Can you say "NSA Cleaner Team"? My dad's in a bunker or dead. Her children were just collateral damage issues.
And I found the files on me. All of them. Agent Sarah Walker's original brief and assignment summaries from Director Arthur Graham offering the assignment to Sarah Walker with the clear understanding that if I was the 'real deal' she would be accepting permanent posting as my handler and any and all means were authorized to secure my cooperation. Including marriage and children. All for the damned Greater Good.
Now the question for me is 'do I love her? Do I want to spend whatever time we're allowed married to her? Do I want to bring children into such a relationship?
Yes, I love her more than I love my life, and yes, I want to marry her and will take my vows seriously. There is only one private reservation. There will never be any children in our marriage. I will not create pawns or hostages for anyone to use against me to do something that would violate my moral compass even for the Greater Good as long as this abomination is in my head.
It's my Blue Pill.
Well, it's Showtime.
"Sa-rah." Tongue is thick and not cooperating worth a damn.
Sarah POV
"It's me Chuck, it's Sarah, please wake up for me."
"Get… get off…"
Oh, God, he's throwing me out. He's over me and he's throwing me out.
"Please, get… off my… hand."
I roll off the bed. Tears welling in my eyes, standing there in all my naked glory and he wants me off his … hand?
I hear him sigh. He holds up his hand and I see that someone has taped the self-medicator to his hand.
"Pease, wait so seepy. Vegas ok. Love"
Holy shit, I've been juicing him with Demerol and he's been trying to wake up. I lay in the same place last time. Oh, shit all this for nothing. He wasn't throwing me out, he was telling me I was drugging him and he couldn't stay awake.
I started laughing and crying and I crawled back in beside him, carefully putting his doping hand on his chest. I wonder how long he'll sleep this time. Poor baby must have been fighting off the juice the whole time I was talking. He loves me. We're getting married.
2 hours later
Tina was notified of elevated levels of blood pressure and respiration by Chuck's nanites. When she realized that he was in medical crisis she had injected some of her nanites into his IV port. If she'd been a few minutes later, Sarah Walker would have walked in on her.
Now she'd always know the location and condition of her first love thanks to these self-replicating little buggers. She would not be helpless as she would have been had Sarah not been in the room with him when his lung blew out.
They'd implant themselves in strategic organs and locations insuring health and long life. If a dangerous physical status was reached, she'd be automatically notified and if possible intervene. Apparently Chuck was awake and WHOA she forgot to eliminate biofeedback from the nanites and the orgasm rocked her world. She went into reset mode where Casey found her crumpled on the floor wearing the biggest smile he'd ever seen on her face.
New Intersect Facility - Los Angeles
Sarah Bartowski had never watched her husband go through a download session.
Of course, she'd seen Chuck, the intersect, go through a download session but this was different. This was her husband. She knew intellectually that he would be fine. He'd done it monthly since their marriage, sometimes twice monthly. But she had never witnessed it before. He'd always carefully scheduled it when she was either out of the building or otherwise occupied.
She was still a CIA agent. Chuck had left it up to her and she wanted to stay part of the team. If she ever got pregnant, she'd reevaluate her status.
Now, however, she sat in a control room on the other side of a glass partition. The lights were dimmed so that one could just barely make out the chair and the occupant waiting for the procedure to begin. A large projector was set up in front of Chuck. It reminded Sarah of one of the old TV cameras you used to see in the movies. It was lowered until it was at eye-level to Chuck. He had his head in a bracing frame to eliminate any possibility of movement. A tech had put drops into Chuck's eyes to dilate the pupils to increase the aperture and reduce actual download time. All very professional and all very by the book.
Sarah was unnerved by all the preparations but the final act that made her leave the room was when the technician put a mouthpiece in Chuck's mouth to prevent him swallowing his tongue in case of a convulsion.
In case something went wrong.
Big blonde bad-assed CIA agent was now leaning against the corridor wall hugging herself tightly and wondering for the umpteenth time why she'd ever taken this assignment.
Tina walked over to her and handed her a cup of coffee. "It'll be alright. He's done it before. It's a little like watching someone get tortured, all strapped down and restrained, but it's for his protection. He knows that. You know that. But it still rattles your cage and that's the way it should be. So don't feel bad just because you can't watch. Trust me, he understands."
Yes, Chuck understands. But he doesn't know. He doesn't know that I've violated protocol. I've fallen in love with my asset. That I love my husband. That I've loved him since the first time I looked into his eyes. I've been playing him, yes, but more importantly, I've been playing the CIA/NSA combine.
Apparently in up-time, Professor Bartowski had spoken quite openly of his wife's 'commitment'.
She'd confronted me with her knowledge in Vegas. I'd been married all of 15 minutes and she took me aside for 'girly moments' and told me she knew everything. And that she wouldn't hesitate for one second to tell him – after she'd killed me.
So when the order comes, he and I, along with Tina and her husband, Casey, will go off the grid. We've made preparations. Who would have thought that the one thing I was most jealous of would already know our situation and would commit to helping us avoid the government assets?
After all, she was the terminator. And he was still her One, her ugly bag of water.
Endit