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It was easy to grab a cellphone off a display stand as Bryce Larkin made his way through the shelves of the Burbank Buy More, passing the bright pink Black Friday sales stickers and the general detritus their little showdown with Tommy had created, combined with the mad stampeded of customers once they'd gotten out of the store -most likely thanks to Chuck, he was sure. He'd said his goodbyes, given Sarah the out that a part of him knew she wouldn't really take...but there was still one last thing to clear up, one that involved his pilfered phone and a number he'd long-since memorized that only two people in the entire world knew.
Typing out a brief text as the CIA-appointed jet took off from the runway, Bryce leaned back in his seat, cufflinks catching the overhead light. It felt...weird, to be awake, alive. The last few months had been such a blur, from going 'rogue' and stealing the Intersect and sending it to Chuck, getting shot by Casey and then brought back by Tommy and that Fulcrum medical team, and then back into the land of nothing he went. It would take some time, he knew, but it was time he couldn't afford. This consulate dinner was just the tip of the iceberg, and far more dangerous things lurked beneath, unseen, in hazy waters he had no clue how to navigate. The issue wasn't that Fulcrum thought he was the Intersect, but rather the fact that Bryce knew every move, every action, every piece of intelligence he gathered and every corrupt agent he took down, it would all have a ripple effect.
And it would ripple out towards Chuck.
It had been five years since he'd seen him. Five long, hard, brutal years, and yet in some ways, it was like no time had passed at all, like Chuck had stood still, perfectly intact, will Bryce's whole world changed, got darker and darker until he didn't even know what light really looked like anymore. But seeing Chuck with the Intersect, how he'd handled himself with Tommy...he'd never been more proud. Not even when he got accepted to Stanford, not even for various CIA accolades that he couldn't ever talk about at the risk of threatening national security. Chuck was a hero; he always had been, and Bryce hoped that by sending him the Intersect, his only friend had been able to see that, too. That he'd done it for him, that he'd known all along just how amazing he was.
He really was Frodo in a sea of Saruman, and Bryce would have been content to be his Samwise for as long as he could, as long as Chuck had wanted him. But then he'd betrayed him. He'd saved him, yes, but he'd still killed their friendship, that one thing hed been able to hold on to after he'd been recruited, the one thing that hadn't been handed to him, that he'd worked for, bit by bit. Not that it has been hard to forge such a relationship with Chuck, since he was such an open, easygoing person by nature, but Chuck had also been hurt in the past, still been uncertain and a little lost like all kids starting out at college, trying to find where they belonged. And he'd made Bryce a part of that. There'd been Christmases with Ellie and long nights spent playing video games, trying to stay awake to cram for finals or rebuilding Zork one line of code at a time.
It had been hard to give up. Not impossible, since Chuck's safety was paramount, and far more important than Bryce's emotional well-being in his opinion...but he still wondered, on the odd occasion, what things might have been like if he'd never had to do any of this. If he'd never had to frame Chuck, if he could have found some other way. If Bryce had never needed to go to such measures in the first place, if his best friend hadn't gotten himself on the CIA's radar. If Bryce himself had never accepted their offer.
Where would he be now? Who would he be now? Would his and Chuck's friendship had stood the test of time and growing adulthood? Or would they have gone their separate ways after college, vague acquaintances you friended on Facebook who's posts you liked our of some feigned sense of obligation? Bryce didn't like to think so, he hoped that no matter what, he wouldn't let something as special and rare as Chuck's particular brand of friendship slip away with him so easily...but he didn't know. He'd never know now. Just like he didn't know if he'd ever see him again. Bryce had to keep his distance now more than ever; this meeting was a big risk, but it had to be done.
He deserved to know. He needed to know. Chuck needed to have someone looking out for him if Bryce couldn't do it himself. And maybe, just maybe, this would set the wheels in motion, wheels that would eventually lead Chuck to some of the answers Bryce knew his best friend had been seeking for so many years.
He could only hope.
The consulate dinner was a success, and Bryce already had a lead on a new Fulcrum contact. Once he'd cleared everything up and the agents were taken into custody, his presence was demanded in Washington so that he could give a full report to the Director and the General, not to mention all the rigorous re-qualification criteria he had to meet. Getting re-certified, extensive psychological profiling -since it wasn't every day that someone was brought back from death, not even in the CIA- that they'd postponed so he could reconstruct his Fulcrum cover. Because that was what was most important: not if Bryce was okay, but that he could still do what they needed him to do. And while he wasn't going to complain...a part of him wanted to. Especially because he knew if he got on a plane and headed to Burbank, Chuck would be there, and he'd be able to make him feel like a person again -like he mattered- in five seconds flat, without even trying.
Right then, he was a little jealous of Sarah, getting to be around that bright, easy smile. That she had someone who would drop everything for her if she just asked, simply because he wanted to help, because he knew what it was like to be hurt and to carry thar hurt around, trying to keep it all in when you just wanted to spill it out. No, the best Bryce had was some take-out from the Chinese place a few blocks from his apartment and the numerous video games he'd picked up on his way in at the airport -he had some catching up to do.
Leaving his suitcase by the door, he flopped backwards onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling, pensive and restless. Orion still hadn't got back to him. After the CIA got the answers they wanted, he had no idea how long he'd be able to stay here, and while he knew that Orion could contact him anywhere, he'd rather do it here, in the States, on his home turf. Less variables to control and consider. Bryce hadn't seen the man since he went off-grid, before he broke into the lab to steal the Intersect, and while they didn't have the most warm and fuzzy relationship...he still trusted him. He'd been there for Bryce when he had no idea who to turn to, had given him hope that he might be able to get out of this mess with his life still somewhat intact. And he was Chuck's dad; he couldn't not respect the man, and his ability to stick to his plan.
Not seeing Chuck for five years had been awful; he couldn't imagine being away for over ten years, away from your children, knowing that if you reached out you could and would be putting their life in danger. Bryce couldn't fathom the kind of love and inner strength one would need for that, to be constantly on the move, always looking over your shoulder, knowing that home was so close by, but always out of reach. But Bartowskis were made of strong stuff, each and every one of them, more than most realized, each of them heroes in their own way, and they deserved to be together, as a family. Bryce hated how he'd driven Chuck away from his sister, forced him to keep secrets from her to keep her safe. That last year at Stanford, he'd tried so hard to keep all of this away from Chuck... and then shoved him right into the deep end anyway.
But what else was he supposed to do? Upload the Intersect himself? Destroy it? Erase all of Stephen's hard work, his life's work, the whole reason he had to abandon Chuck in the first place? No. As much as Bryce hated it, they needed the Intersect to fight Fulcrum, and the Intersect needed to be in someone like Chuck in order for it to be used most humanely, without fear of corruption or misuse. Still...a part of him wished he'd asked him first, rather than having the upload dependent on a line from Zork he knew Chuck would remember, without a doubt. Bryce hated taking Chuck's choice away; the same thing had been done to him too many times over the years, orders he couldn't refuse, missions he couldn't turn down, superiors he had to answer to.
Bryce's life wasn't his own anymore, hadn't been his since junior year, and every day he woke up and was reminded of that...and how much he'd lost.
The buzzing of his phone drew him out of his thoughts, signalling an incoming text. Groaning softly, he picked it up, scanning the message quickly before deleting it. Shrugging on his jacket, he holstered his gun and picked up his keys, leaving his apartment and making his way to Lafayette Park, their agreed-upon location. The park was deserted so late at night, nothing there but full well-worn benches and denuded trees, the burbling of the nearby fountain covering up the noise of his steps. He could see a thick layer of frost beginning to creep in around the edges of the water, clouding his breath in front of him as he walked. It was just over a month now until Christmas.
Bryce wondered if he'd be alive to see it.
"Where you followed?" was the first thing that Stephen J. Bartowski, AKA Orion, asked him, sitting on the bench nearest the fountain. Gone was the hat that Orion was known to favour, but the dark coat remained, slightly ragged at the edges like it had been through a fight. Or it's wearer had. It was highly likely.
Bryce shook his head, hands buried in his jacket pocket for warmth. He kinda wished he'd brought some gloves, but they'd get in the way if he had to fire his gun. If Chuck were here, he'd make some joke about sleeveless ones, and Bryce would sigh and roll his eyes and tell Chuck, 'We're not in the eighties anymore, buddy, move on' and Chuck would say 'Never, you can't make me' and...
"No, I made sure of it," Bryce replied, pushing thought from his mind as he stood in front of the man that was the closest thing he had to an ally these days.
"Good. Why did you ask to meet?"
"And a hello would be nice," the spy mumbled under his breath, but the engineer heard it all the same, smiling faintly at the remark. "Hello, Bryce. Now, why did you ask to meet?"
Gingerly, Bryce made his way onto the opposite end on the bench, cringing internally at the cold. His body was still a little sensitive, recalibrating itself. Sighing heavily, Bryce gave him the only answer that could ever bring the two of them together to a deserted park bench on a freezing D.C. night. "I saw Chuck."
Stephen's expression immediately shuttered, but not before Bryce caught the beginnings of an unmistakable anger...and resignation. Like he'd known this would happen all along. Like he knew Bryce better than he himself did. "Why? You promised to stay away from him, Bryce, to leave him out of all this. He deserves to love his life in peace."
"I know," Bryce murmured, unable to suppress the guilt that infiltrated his tone, that clouded the corners of his eyes. He knew, but he'd had no choice.
"Then why..."
"Because he has the Intersect, Stephen. Because I sent it to him three months ago, on his birthday, the same day I -technically, for a few minutes- died." Each word was a bullet, rapid-fire, tearing out if him the same way Casey's had torn into him, each one as damning as the last. He'd made promises, ones he'd never intended to break. That was the deal. It was how he'd gotten by. It was how he'd gotten so close to Fulcrum in the first place -with Orion's help.
"You...you sent Charles the Intersect?" Stephen breathed out incredulously, face limned in betrayal like it was a palpable glow, as obvious as the lights in the street behind them. "You put that thing in my boy's head?"
"Stephen..."
"No. No. How could you do that, Bryce? To someone you supposedly care about, enough to kick them out of a college they worked years to get into just so that the CIA wouldn't even consider him, and now you make him their most important piece of intelligence, putting him in constant danger? Chuck's not built for that; you know that. So why?"
Bryce rebutted him helplessly, "He's the only one I trusted," begging him to understand, to see that this was the best choice: he knew how special Chuck was, too. He was the only one who, like him, knew what the CIA was like, and why it'd be so much better if Chuck was apart of it.
"Even over me?" Stephen asked, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "The guy who actually built it?"
"I thought you just built the really cool bits," Bryce quipped, hoping to bring some levity to the situation, but unfortunately not succeeding.
"He's gonna want it out," he insisted without preamble. "They'll get Zarnow and-"
Bryce cut him off, somewhat harshly, "Zarnow's gone. Arrested, after trying to kidnap Chuck. He as swelling secrets. Chuck worked it all out, after flying a helicopter."
"Flying a...he hated heights! How the hell did he..." the man trailed off, leaning forward to look him straight in the eye as he implored fervently, "he's just a kid, Bryce. My kid. Him, and Ellie. I did all of this for them. I abandoned them, my own family, so that they wouldn't get caught up in this mess. And now you've dragged him headfirst into it."
"He's done good work, Mr Bartowski. If you see the files, the people he's stopped-"
"I don't care!" Orion persisted, exploding to his feet, pacing the frosted grass in front of the bench, back and forth, just like Chuck used to when he was ramped up about something, needing an outlet for all his energy. "I don't care about anyone else; I just want my son to be safe. He's lost so much, too much. Charles is a genius, and he's kind, and will go out of his way to help anybody who needs it, loyal to a fault. I don't know where he gets it, but I'm so glad he's got it."
Stephen sighed, and he seemed so old to Bryce in that moment, so weary and beaten down by the world, a boxer who had taken too many punches, a fighter who had fought too many fights, and lost most of them. "They'll tear him apart, Bryce," he said softly, sitting beside him once again. "In a year, neither of us will even be able to recognize him."
"I don't believe that." Chuck's stronger than that. He has to be. I can't be wrong about this.
"No, you refuse to believe it, because the alternative is too hard to consider. The fact that you might've ruined his life, yet again. That you might be the reason he gets killed."
"Sarah will protect him."
The engineer scoffed disbelievingly. "Sarah Walker? The 'Ice Queen'? Graham's best agent?" He shook his head. "I doubt it. She won't know what to do with him; he wasn't raised in that world, and for good reason."
"She's different, Mr Bartowski. She cares. I know she cares about Chuck."
The man was not convinced. "How can you be sure?"
"Because I was there," Bryce explained, thinking back to the events of the last few weeks, of Burbank, of waking up strapped to a chair, of the way Sarah had stormed in when she'd thought Chuck was in danger. How she hadn't even hesitated to point her gun at him -at him- despite their history, and his history with Chuck. "I saw it. A Fulcrum agent had Chuck at gunpoint...and I could see it in her eyes. How scared she was. Not just professionally, but personally. Take it from someone who knows, sir: Chuck rubs off on people. You can be the toughest spy in the world, and then he'll say or do something that just makes you laugh, makes you feel normal. Human. Like you're more than just a file number and a badge. I know I ruined his life, I know he was meant for so much more...and I hate myself for what I did, I genuinely do. He was gonna take the world by storm, but maybe he can save it instead."
"That wasn't his choice though. He didn't know what uploading it would mean, cause I sincerely doubt you gave him a users manual or anything."
Bryce smirked slightly, hoping the action covered up the sting of the man's words. "You didn't make one."
"And there's a reason for that. The brain is a very delicate thing. Overwhelm it too much...Bryce, this could have consequences. And I'm not just talking about emotional, life-in-danger ones. I'm talking about Chuck's brain. No human is supposed to hold all that data, otherwise we'd all be walking around with computers in our heads."
"What are you saying?" Bryce demanded, voice cold and unforgiving as a blade, sharp enough to cut. "That it could kill him?"
"Not yet, no. It all depends on how often he uses it, like wearing out a hard drive."
"If it got that far...would it be reversible? Would you be able to help him?"
Stephen pierced him with a look, pinning him like a butterfly, eyes dark with resolve. "This is my son we're talking about here, Bryce: I wouldn't stop until I had. But I think there's something else you should consider."
"What's that?"
"Blowing up the lab like you did, while it was a smart idea at the time, and you probably thought that the government would leave it be, at least for a little while with the success that Chuck is having...Bryce, I already have Intel that suggests the CIA are building a new Intersect. Which would mean..."
Out with the old, in with the new. "They're gonna kill Chuck, when this new computers done."
No.
No, no, no, no, no. Just no.
Bryce surged to his feet, pacing the trampled stretch of grass, boots swirling a trail of mud, mirroring his muddled thoughts. All he could think of was Chuck, getting killed in the middle of the night by some agent. Chuck, bleeding out on the floor, the light in his eyes dimming forever. Would they get Casey to do it, or even Sarah..."We can't let that happen," Bryce insisted, begged, pleaded like he had never done for anything else in his life.
And Stephen looked so calm, so very calm, and how could he be so calm? This was his son's life they were taking about! Chuck, his Chuck, his best friend and the most important person in Bryce's life..."I know."
"We can't! We'll have to do something. Destroy it or break it or something. I won't let them kill Chuck. I won't. Anyone tries and so help me..."
And then hit him. It was cold, and cruel, and so very ruthless. It was the kind of thinking that leads to people becoming traitors in the first place. But if Bryce didn't do this, he'd lose Chuck, and his loyalty to him far outweighed that to his country or the government that had recruited him at twenty one, that had robbed him the chance to live a normal, happy life.
Bryce reclaimed his seat running a hand through his hair, over his face, like he can scrub all this away. "What if...what if I leaked it, to Fulcrum? That the CIA were building a new Intersect? They'd try to sabotage it, right? Especially if they still think I'm the only one. I'd lose all my value otherwise. Fulcrum would lose."
Orion immediately shut the idea down. "Bryce, there's no guarantee that it would work. You could get caught."
"I don't care," he almost growled, hearing the conviction in his voice and startling even himself. "The Cypher...it's the main part, right? According to the schematics you gave me."
"One of them, yeah," Stephen acknowledged, grimacing slightly, as if he couldn't even believe he was entertaining his preposterous plan for even a second, adding fuel to his already blazing inferno.
"So, if I stole the real one and made a fake, a Trojan horse that would explode...it would destroy the new Intersect, and the CIA would still need Chuck. He'd be the only one."
"Is that really what you want to do? Blow up the computer like that? The blast ratio alone...a lot of people could get killed." He didn't say, Sacrificing many lives for one isn't right, or Killing innocent people is wrong. No, all Stephen Bartowski asked was, "Can you live with that on your conscience?"
Bryce nodded, signing the death certificate of his own innocence, if he even had any left at that point. "For Chuck, I'll do anything."
"Then you best go find it, then. Come to me when you have. I'll keep it somewhere safe, design some duplicate forgeries."
"Good enough to fool the CIA?" he inquired mildly, leaning an arm along the back of the bench, calmer now that he had a plan, a goal. It was something he and Chuck had always had in common.
"Good enough to fool you," Stephen insisted with that hint of charm and confidence that Bryce so adored in Chuck.
"Okay then."
Figuring that that was it -despite their shared interest in Chuck, they're not particularly sociable, Bryce was still CIA, the epitome of everything Orion hated, so they weren't exactly gonna crack a beer or talk about sports -not that Bryce even really liked sport all that much; he'd done enough running around (usually away from firearms) to last him a lifetime or two- so he moved to stand, only stopping when Stephen called out hesitantly, "How...how was he? Is he okay?"
Bryce paused, considering what he wanted to say, what the man needed to hear. He chose the truth; always the easiest option. "He's Chuck. He still has the same Tron poster in his room from when he was ten, still lives in the same pair of Converse from college. He can still fix a computer with his eyes closed, still spends hours trying to convince Morgan that mayonnaise doesn't belong in a sandwich on a desert island. He still greets everyone with a smile even when they don't deserve it, still makes hot chocolate with little marshmallows in for Ellie when she's has a bad day. He's still the best guy I've ever known, likely will ever know. He's still Chuck, Mr Bartowski. He's still your boy, and he always will be. No government super computer will ever change that."
"You still miss him?" Not a question.
"Every minute of every day," he answered, suddenly feeling more raw, more vulnerable, than he had in years. Bryce wasn't used to showing so many of his cards, showing his heart; Chuck was the one who always wore it on his sleeve, right there for the whole world to see. Bryce didn't have that luxury, had never been capable of it even when he had.
"You still love him?"
"Like I could ever stop." Like that was something you could do, stop loving someone like Chuck. It seemed impossible, far more than anything else he'd ever done in his life, and he'd done some things that even Superman would be jealous of.
"Good," Orion nodded solemnly. "That means you'll do what it takes."
"Of course I will. Chuck doesn't deserve this."
"Neither do you."
Bryce shrugged, folding his hands in his pockets. "That's just the way the world works for guys like me. We don't get the happy ending. All I care about is making sure Chuck gets his. Take care, Orion," Bryce tipped his head and walked off into the night, off to save the world and his best friend, knowing they were one in the same.