Author's note:Ok, It has been forever since i've wrote anything worthwhile. I apologize for that, I've been busy with school and Supernatural. That was a weak excuse, but I digress. This story i'm working on, is my baby. I've been trying to write this thing for a whole year and i'm still not satisfied with it! This first part might be slow and or confusing, something both, but trust me it gets better. Just survive through the mystery aspect of it and everyone involved (reader and writer) will be very happy. Hopefully.

So here it is, I'll really really try to get these chapters out based on the reactions I get via reviews. I already have the next chapter done, and some of the other chapters randomly finished as well. This is a big AU too. Its in early Season 3 of Chuck and post "The Curious Case of Dean Winchester" for Season 5 of SPN. Beware of possible spoilers for both.

Disclaimer:Don't own Chuck, but psyched its coming back in January (Crosses fingers). And I do not own Supernatural, I'm just playing in Eric Kripke's sandbox. Which is fun btw.

*Update:Took the time to reread the story and make some changes. All the mistakes are mine, and i'd love a beta. Mastermind of New England and have been bouncing around ideas for months and I forgot to credit him. So, uh, sorry. =D

Chapter 1- Forget about the Rain

"When the sky is overcast,
the clouds the darkest gray,
I remember what I had,
oh I dream of yesterday.
So caught up in the past,
the memories don't fade.
I know this won't last in the past I can't stay."- Forget about the Rain. Trapt.

It had been raining for the whole week.

And not just raining, but storming. There was thunder that shook the whole earth and lightning that lit up the dark sky in eerie blue streaks.

Sarah was leaning over the porcelain counter from within the Orange Orange, cleaning the shop while all hell broke loose from the outside. She wiped down the counter, bored out of her mind. The place was barren. There were no customers, and Sarah did not harbor any ill will to those who'd rather remain at home than brave an apocalyptic storm just to get a frozen yogurt.

Her eyes darted to the partly opened blinds. The clouds were black and somber and the rain pounded against the windows--it was so penetrating that she almost thought it would break the glass with its herculean force. Sarah sighed; it was supposed to be summer.

Tapping her fingers on the counter-top, she surveyed the store one last time before coming to a decision. She untied her apron and folded up neatly before casting it aside. She shrugged on her coat while grasping for her purse, and then headed to the door. She gripped the handle and used all her might to shove it open. Strong winds resisted her efforts but Sarah managed to pry it ajar. The bell chimed in her departure and she was hit with a frigid blast of wind. Her bare skin fell victim to the cold and she shivered.

Seeking a source of warmth, Sarah hastily locked up the Orange Orange. She switched the 'open' sign to 'closed' and then with a satisfied huff, she tugged her coat closer to her body and started her short trek to the Buy More.

The automatic doors slid open and Sarah came running in through the entrance, her breath heavy and labored. Her boots squeaked on the slick floor and droplets of water dripped down her face, nipped fingers, and the ends of her hair until a small puddle pooled beneath her feet.

Almost at once, the heat circulating throughout the store began to warm her up, thawing out the numbness in her bones. She rejoiced internally when she no longer felt the icy burn linger in her throat; odd because this might have been the first time she had been glad to be inside the Buy More. It was warm and inviting, which were two adjectives not often used when describing the store.

When she got most of her feeling back, her eyes began their search--past all of the shoppers and employees--until they landed on a single curly-headed man sitting behind the Nerd Herd desk.

Propping himself with one hand on his cheek, Chuck was on the verge of falling asleep. His eyes fluttered as he kept nodding as an inept customer frantically waved his phone in his face.

Sarah's lips contorted into a fairly amused grin. She could tell by the desperate look on Chuck's face that he needed someone to save him. Taking it upon herself to be the one to do this, she began to head over to intercede. She was stopped dead when a man rudely bumped into her shoulder, jarring the purse from her hand; it plopped into the wet puddle on the floor.

She was quick to reclaim her dampened purse, a growing sense of impatience setting on her face. Slinging her bag back over her shoulder, she watched the man (who was donning a large beige trenchcoat) make a beeline for the Nerd Herd desk, more specifically, Chuck. He politely rested a hand on the customer's chest and said something intelligible. Sarah strained to make the words out, but found it impossible. In the blink of an eye, the customer's upset expression had dispersed. It left him calm and loose; Sarah had trouble identifying how this could be. Said customer proceeded to apologize to Chuck, who merely nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Finally, he turned his back on Chuck and the man in the trenchcoat and simply just walked away.

Out of nowhere, a gruff voice broke Sarah's concentration. "Are you going to move, Walker? You're making a mess, and I am not going to be cleaning it up."

She blinked several times, and craned her neck to see Casey in all of his green-shirt glory. He scowled disapprovingly.

"Do you know who that is?" She asked, disregarding his snide remark.

Casey looked at her strangely. He took a quick glance at the man talking with Chuck and then shrugged.

"No, I'm assuming you don't either."

She sighed and shook her head. Her eyes remained glued to the man and Chuck. Biting her lip, she watched as Chuck shot up to his feet, very alert. His brow furrowed and forehead creased in concentration. His boredrum ceased and he let the man talk while he just listened intently, a serious expression worn on his face.

"Chuck seems to know him," she told Casey, but kept her focus on Chuck. He was on edge; eyes hardened like stone while his body visibly tensed up. Sarah observed that there were no signs that Chuck had flashed yet, but it was possible that he was still being threatened by this stranger. "He looks upset, should we intervene?"

Casey grunted in response. He zeroed in on the man. With his back facing the two spies, all that could be seen was a mess of raven-black hair and the large hulking trenchcoat slumped over his small frame.

"I think Bartowski can handle it," said Casey. It sounded as though he was choosing his words carefully. "If he tries anything funny, we'll move in, but for now I say this guy is no threat." And without another word, Casey abandoned Sarah and he went off in the opposite direction.

Sarah watched him go in stunned confusion.

'I guess if Casey thinks he's not a problem, then I should too.'

But Sarah felt something was amiss. She had no clue why Casey was so ready to blow the potential threat off like it was nothing. He was obviously causing Chuck to act differently. He wasn't fearful of him though, no Chuck seemed open to him, but he did have his guard up. Like he was ready for anything.

Forgetting that she was in the middle of the floor, Sarah moved closer to the nerd herd desk but strayed just far enough so she could listen in on the conversation. She pretended to look at the newest videogames as they continued to talk in hushed whispers.

"I told you that'd I go with you, but something has come up and I can't leave. Not yet anyway..."

Chuck's voice was controlled and firm. Its tone conveyed that there was no room for further arguments. Upon hearing this, Sarah's ears perked up in curiosity.

The man in the trenchcoat sighed, "I have heard what is going on here." Intense blue eyes flickered briefly to Sarah, making shivers trail up her spine. "But how much do I need to stress what sort of danger we are facing?"

Chuck exchanged a look with the man and then to Sarah. He ran a hand through his hair, brown eyes conflicted. He shook his head decisively. "No, I'm sorry." He sounded sincere. "I can't help you."

Seeing that Chuck would not budge, the man huffed irritably. He leaned over the counter, his face inches from Chuck. Sarah caught this and she slipped into Agent Walker mode, her hand stuffed inside her purse, gripping cool metal readily. Expecting Chuck to cower in fear at the man's sudden advances, Sarah was surprised to see him remain rooted to where he stood. He sent the man a chiling glare emitting pure defiance. Sarah watched the two of them stare each other down, neither of them breaking eye contact. She strangely no longer felt threatened by man; instead she felt an odd sensation well up within her as she looked to Chuck.

"In time, you'll find that leaving this place is inevitable." The man forewarned. "If you want any chance of your loved one's surviving unscathed, you will come with me right now."

Chuck's gaze wavered and he looked down and away. Sarah thought that he was even ashamed of himself. The man in the trenchcoat tilted his head to the side, assessing him with soulful eyes. He placed a hand on Chuck's chest and that's when Sarah's patience was on its last leg. She was done waiting for this passive-aggressive game to come to an end.

"They will track you down," Sarah caught the man whisper to Chuck gravelly. "And to find you, they will use your family and friends against you because they do not mind collateral damage."

The man kept his palm resting on Chuck's chest. He pressed harder, digging his palm into Chuck's ribcage. Sarah's eyes widened in horror as Chuck doubled over; holding his stomach like the wind had just been knocked out of him. Falling forward, he gasped for breath, all the while shooting the man one of the coldest looks She had the misfortune of seeing.

"Thanks for that," he told the man between gritted teeth as he winced in pain. "Now get out of here."

The raven-haired man nodded reluctantly.

"Please reconsider," he said at last.

"Go," was the harsh and final reply.

The man turned his heel and left Chuck alone. His face was stoic and void of emotion, but looking deeper into his two large blue eyes Sarah saw remnants of dread and defeat. He clumsily dug one hand into his trenchcoat and drew a phone. He stalled for a second or two before pressing the send button and putting the it up to his ear.

As he headed for the entrance, he gave Sarah one long last look. His piercing gaze rendered her paralyzed. She felt her wrist suddenly become hot and burned her skin. A free hand snapped unconsciously onto the sight of the injury, and then Sarah had no choice but to tear her eyes off of the man's retreating form to seek what was causing her so much agony. It was the bracelet that once belonged to Chuck's mother; it was glowing, searing white hot. It had to have been the trick of the lighting or something like that, she thought with certainty, but the longer she touched it, the more it felt like she had stuck her hand into a pot of boiling water.

Sure that the man was about to leave, Sarah glanced over her shoulder to watch him pass through the automatic doors. There was a sudden crash of thunder and stroke of lightning; the sky illuminated electric blue and she swore she saw the man evaporate into thin air.

Remarkably, her wrist no longer burned.

Mystified, Sarah couldn't pull her eyes off the entrance. Only when Chuck came by her side did she break from the entransic state she had fallen into.

"Nice weather we're having," Chuck said deadpanned.

Trading him a sidelong glance, she replied. "A friend of yours?"

He smiled. "More of an acquaintance really. Friend of a friend kind of thing."

Sarah turned to face him and said with strong disbelief. "Is he going to be a problem for us, Chuck? It looked like you two were going to break out in a fight."

Chuck laughed, but it sounded forced. "Trust me, you and Casey have nothing to worry about."

"There's no need for a background check?" Sarah teased, but was he knew she wasn't joking.

"You wouldn't find anything spy-related in his file." His eyes dimmed and he took on a pensive appearance. "I don't even think he knows spies exist..."

His voice drifted off and Sarah decided to keep her distance from his personal affairs.

"If you're sure, Chuck, I won't investigate further." She took him by the hand, feeling heat radiate off of him in waves. "I promise."

He nodded distractedly.

"Wanna go back to the apartment for awhile"? He suggested. "Big Mike gave me the rest of the day off."

He's lying through his teeth. Sarah realized, puzzled. But why would he lie? What are you hiding from me Chuck?

Playing his game, Sarah nodded. "Ok, what do you want to do?"

It took twice as long to get back to Chuck's apartment then it would on a normal sunny day. With rain pouring mercilessly overhead, Sarah found it near impossible to navigate through the flooded streets of Burbank. The windshield wipers were going crazy, clearing a visible path for Sarah to maneuver safely on the freeway. To keep her relaxed, Chuck turned on the radio and they both listened to the soft rock melodies in silence.

Feeling restless from being cooped up in such a confined space, Sarah had the unusual compulsion to talk. She struck up a small conversation, hoping that it would knock some sense into Chuck.

"This weather has been so strange lately. Its the middle of August and there has not been one day of sunshine..." She wanted to add that ever since Chuck had reuploaded the Intersect that the whole world seemed to being going to hell.

After he defeated the Ring spies, Beckman offered Chuck the opportunity to be a real agent. He accepted her proposition and was sent to some CIA/NSA training facility right after Ellie and Awesome's wedding. Sarah had barely enough time to absorb what had happened. It was just a stream of fragmented events that never added up to complete one single thought. It was not until the next morning did she finally put the pieces together. Chuck was the Intersect, again. That meant there was no chance of them having a real life together. She was ready to give up her life as a spy that night, but it was all for nothing when Chuck basically slapped it back in her face.

And so he left. For three months, the three longest months of her life, Chuck was gone. And during that time, the weather had changed. There were outbreaks of wild fires followed by random earthquakes, and now an onslaught of thunder storms; and that was just in California. From what she had read and seen on the news, the entire country--the whole world was having these erratic climate changes.

The weather wasn't the only thing that had changed. The number of criminal acts--theft, vandalism, rape, and murder- had increased to all new highs. Disease was running rampant in other parts of the world, causing people to believe that this was the coming of days. When things started to spin out of control, Chuck had returned. But he was home early, too early to have become a real spy. He wouldn't tell Sarah or Casey why he had decided to come back so soon. He was unusually quiet since his return. Beckman had revealed that he had failed training because he could not shoot someone during a practice simulation. Sarah trusted that was the true reason for his detachment, but as the weeks went by, she began to believe there was something more to it.

"Some people are getting really worked up about it," Sarah rambled on, waiting for Chuck to respond. He kept staring at the rain-streaked window. "They've been saying that these are signs of the apocalypse."

From the corner of her eye, she saw Chuck grow rigid. His eyes were closed with his forehead creased like he was in some form distress. Concerned, Sarah looked at him a little bit longer before exiting the freeway and concentrating on beating the storm back home.

Chuck flung the door wide open, pulling Sarah through by the hand. He kicked the door shut and promptly shook his head like a dog, water droplets flying in every direction. Both he and Sarah were soaked to the bone with the icy rain. Sarah slipped out of her wet boots and stripped off her jacket, hanging it on the coat-hanger. Shivering, she began to ring out her dripping wet hair all while heading toward Chuck's bedroom.

"That was, with out a doubt the coldest rain I've felt. Ever.," She said with teeth chattering. "Shouldn't it be snowing when the temperature is below freezing?"

When she entered the room, Sarah happily plopped down on the neatly made bed. Getting comfortable, she watched tiredly as Chuck rummaged through his closet only to pull out a familiar red sweatshirt. He shut the sliding glass door and then tossed it to Sarah who caught it with ease.

"You don't want to get swine flu," He told her. There was none of his usual humor laced in his words. He was completely serious. She gave him a weird look but put on the sweatshirt anyway.

Feeling warmer, she snuggled into the covers and rested her damp hair on one of the soft pillows. She combed through tangled hair with her fingers, pausing when she noticed Chuck loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. It was good to know that he no longer felt uncomfortable around her. A year or so ago, Chuck would be blushing madly if he had to change in her presence.

"I don't think you contract swine flu by getting wet," She interjected dryly.

With his back turned, Chuck barely missed Sarah's cheeks grow red while he continued to undress. Tossing the tie and shirt into the laundry basket across the room, he looked over his shoulder and smirked.

"Normally I'd agree with you on that," he said. "But if this is Judgement day, it's better to be safe than sorry."

"True."

He pulled off his white undershirt in one fluid motion and then threw it with his other drenched clothes. Sarah's face burned a deeper red as he bent over to claim drier change of clothes. He grabbed a black long-sleeved shirt and faced her. Sarah's eyes almost bugged out of her head when she noticed something Chuck's bare chest.

"Nice tattoo," She studied him briefly before asking, "When did you get that?"

Sara never remembered Chuck having a tattoo before, or even expressing the desire to get one. Didn't he have a weird aversion to needles?

Chuck looked down to see the ink just below his left collarbone. It was a black star--a pentagram-- and it was encircled by a black sun.

"Oh, this?" He said casually. "Uh, I got it the weekend I got back from training."

"Can I ask why?"

Throwing on his shirt, he shrugged with indifference. "Some of my friends have tattoos and I thought I should face my fear of needles and get one? I don't know, it was pretty spontaneous."

Sarah wanted to pry deeper, but decided to keep her mouth shut. Here was just another thing Chuck was hiding from her. A tattoo. And It just didn't add up. Chuck and tattoos did not go together, it was like mixing oil and vinegar. A part of her wondered if Ellie knew.

"--So, do you want me to get you some hot chocolate?"

She blinked. "What?"

Chuck had moved to the doorway, "Hot Chocolate, Agent Walker. Would you like some?"

"Yeah, that'd be much appreciated."

"Good choice," he commented with an honest smile. "Just stay put and I'll be right back."

He left the room, leaving Sarah alone on his bed. Yawning loudly, she closed her eyes and nuzzled deeper into the pillows. They smelt like Chuck, all having that same amazing scent. She felt a grin spread across her lips, happy that he had finally come home and was safe from any harm that she was unable to protect him from.

A she was about to drift asleep, Sarah jolted awake to the sound of Chuck's phone vibrating on the nightstand. She turned to her side and reached her hand out to grab it.

"Chuck, someone is texting you..."

There was a small beat, but then she heard him call out, "Who is it?"

Sarah read the IPhone and found that the name simply said: Sam.

Feeling nosy, she hit the touch screen to view the message.

A blurb popped up and all that was written was, "We need to talk," followed by a long set of numbers. "30°08′07″N 96°15′25″W / 30.13528°N 96.25694°W / 30.13528; -96.25694"

Sarah read and reread the string of digits repeatedly. They were coordinates. Just then a flag went up in the back of her brain. She opted to tread carefully from then on, her suspicions concerning Chuck continued to rise.

"Someone named Sam," She yelled back.

In an instant, Chuck rushed into his room. He was holding two steaming mugs of hot coco, his face giving off that dumbfounded look he was so famous for. He bent over and traded Sarah the mug for his IPhone. She took the mug and propped herself up against the headboard of the bed. She blew on the hot drink and took a tentative sip as she watched Chuck scroll through his texts.

"Does Sam have any connections to the guy from the Buy More?" She inquired curiously.

Chuck looked up from his phone, "Of course not."

"Right," she muttered and rolled her eyes. Chuck was being way to evasive for her liking. "So who is this guy, or girl..?"

"He's an old friend from Stanford," he said, a little too preoccupied. His voice sounded dazed and confused. Did he just flash?

"That's the first of heard of him. Did he hang out with you and Bryce?"

He fiddled with his phone, answering half-heartedly, "No, he didn't like Bryce very much...or Jill for that matter." Putting the phone in his pants pocket, he drank some of his coco and joined Sarah on the bed. "He's about two and a half years younger than me, so he didn't really "connect" with my group of friends."

Sarah nodded in understanding. "Seems like he really wants to talk to you," she remarked coolly. "Sent you coordinates...are you sure he's not a Fulcrum agent?"

At this, Chuck choked on his coco. He burst out laughing and it was music to Sarah's ears, even though she was caught off guard by it. She hadn't heard him laugh since before the wedding. She liked his laughter and missed it terribly.

"What's so funny?" She asked.

He shook his head and snorted, "Nothing."

Punching his arm, Chuck almost spilt his mug. He set it down on the nightstand and climbed up beside her. Side by side, they sat next to each other. Even then, Chuck still kept his distance only when they were inches a part. Sarah swirled her coco around and gave him a funny look.

"Come on, Chuck. You can tell me anything..."

For a moment, he said nothing. Sarah thought he was about to drift off again, withdraw back into that shell of his and leave her questions unanswered. Instead he snaked an arm around her neck and brought her closer into his chest. Sarah found it strange, the way he was acting. How he would be so incredibly distant at one time and then be touchy and inviting in the next. It was driving her up a wall.

"Let's just say Sam would be the last person you'd think would be a spy." he said finally.

"That's funny, coming from you," Sarah said playfully.

"Uh, huh. Anyway, Sam couldn't have been recruited by Fulcrum, or the CIA for that matter. Like me, he never finished school..."

Sarah frowned, "What happened?"

"There was a fire in his apartment," Chuck explained. His eyes grew darker, haunted. "His girlfriend didn't make it out."

"Oh," Sarah looked down, sorry that she asked. "What does he do now?"

Playing with her hair, Chuck stared out of the Morgan Door. He watched the rain tap the window and he sighed almost longingly. "I'm not entirely sure; we haven't talked in a long time. The last thing I remember him telling me is that he and his older brother were going on a cross-country road trip. After what happened, he needed time to clear his thoughts, y'know? "

Sarah nodded sluggishly; she took one last sip out of her mug and then set it down. It was empty. Chuck looked at the mug briefly before looking back at her. She let out a long drawn out yawn and tears sprang from her eyes.

He studied her before asking, "Tired?"

"A little..." She said quietly.

She had just begun to feel lightheaded when a crazy thought popped into her head. It made the sneaking sense of betrayal become more apparent and obvious than before. Her face paled considerably at the possibility of it actually being true.

"Sarah, do you trust me?" Chuck's voice brought her back to the present.

Struggling to keep her eyes open, she casted a wary gaze his way. His face was blurred and fuzzy around the edges.

"C-chuck...did, did you drug my hot chocolate?" She asked and giggled at the ridiculousness of the question.

Please say no, just say no Chuck. Her subconsciousness begged him in sadness. Don't tell me the truth, I won't be able to take it.

Even as her sight began to grow worse, Sarah could see the guilty look evident on Chuck's face. Her bubbly attitude caused by the drug went away and then she started to become extremely anxious.

"Why...why would you do that--?" She said nervously. Her speech was incoherent and was more just mumbling now.

Chuck leaned up to her, brushing a damp lock of hair out of her face. His brown eyes met her glazed-over blue ones and he spoke methodically.

"I need you to be safe, Sarah." She heard him tell her forlornly. "And for that, it's best that you stay away from me for awhile."

With all the strength she could muster, Sarah shook her head back and forth. "No, Chuck. We need to stay....to--togeth--" She couldn't finish because a pair of lips had suceeded in silencing her. The kiss they shared was gentle and soothing. It was a kiss that promised that there would be more soon, more when he'd return for her.

Chuck pulled back slowly. His eyes wavered with unshed tears. "I love you Sarah and I will not let you die because of me. I'm sorry I had to do this, but it's the only way."

Sarah started to slide down the pillows and her body felt numb and dead. The drug was in full effect and it was only seconds before she'd fall unconscious and Chuck would leave.

He slipped off the bed and Sarah watched him through parted eyes. He disappeared underneath the bed and then came back up, holding a shoebox. He dug through its contents, retrieving what he needed for whatever journey lay ahead.

"Please..."

Chuck shut the box and placed it back beneath the bed. He looked up to see Sarah, with both eyes closed, mutter in a barely lucid state. He gave her a sad smile. There was a hint of regret hidden beyond his eyes.

Before he resumed packing, he tucked Sarah in the covers so she'd at least be comfortable. He knelt beside the bed and whispered into her ear.

"I'll come back for you, I promise."

It was the last thing Sarah heard before she drifted off to sleep.

End Chapter one.

Chapter Two is on its way- Give me a Sign

AN: So, thoughts? Review would be very nice and make me happy. Things will pick up, because if you know anything about Supernatural, then you know things are gonna get good soon. You better watch out cuz you might just get "Kripke'd" by me.