Title: … vs. the Silence
Chapters: 1 of ? WIP
Summary: The season finale rocked my socks, and inspired me to fill in the gaps and the blanks in the episode. Each chapter will skip around POVs, hence no one named in the title.
Disclaimer: I don't write for the show, I don't own the characters, but I like to play pretend.
"Walker and Larkin, together again, finally, we can get out of here."
Her tongue is lead in her mouth, unspoken words tumbling through her head fighting for air. Unbeknownst to her, her lips are moving, opening, closing, trying.
(I need to find Chuck)
(I'm in the wedding!)
(I hate you)
(I love you)
(I look at you and can't stand it)
(This is my dream)
(This should be my dream)
(This is a nightmare)
(The General is trying to help)
(The General is a bitch)
(I want Project Bartowski back)
(I don't care about the Intersect Project)
(I'm in love with Chuck)
(I don't want to go)
"I have to go," finally slips out.
Bryce nods with a smile, "Of course. I'll pick you up later."
With a noncommittal nod, Sarah practically runs from the room.
To no one in particular, Bryce sighs. "Bartowski. Again."
(Whatever you do, don't think, Sarah.)
She's hopping around on one foot, struggling to get her heels on in the tiered confection that Honey had convinced Ellie was the proper bridesmaid dress. Sarah had taken one look at the dress and at the pleading, desperate look on Ellie's face, and it had been crystal clear that the pepto pink was, well, Awesome.
(I hope Chuck doesn't-)
She brutally cuts off that thought. However it would end, it wouldn't be good. That part of her life was...
"Where the hell is my blonde?!"
(Damn it!) Sarah grabs her bouquet and runs. Who'd have thought she'd ever be grateful to Honey Woodcomb? She enters the room with a sheepish smile, taking her place with the bridesmaids, trying desperately, and failing miserably, to avoid a thought, a breath, eye contact with the lone rooster in the hen house. She could feel his gaze on her, and (damn it!) she looks up. Every time.
(No, don't ask-) Sarah finds herself pleading with a higher power she has only just begun to believe in for help, seeing the look Chuck's eyes that she loved and dreaded. It was the same determined look in his eyes immediately before he did something crazy and heroic. (Damn it, Chuck, you know you belong on the Intersect Project!)
As they leave the room, the words again pour through her. And how tragic that this time, she knows exactly what she has to say.
"I wanted to-"
(I can't, I don't want to say-) "Uh, Ellie wanted me to make sure you had the rings," Sarah virtually stutters, silently cursing herself. Anything, anything, to forestall what she knows is coming. That look, that stubborn, determined, adorable look is in his eye. (I can't believe I won't see-) Looking down, she brushes his suit off, straightens his boutonniere, and blinks, rapidly, taping out the Morse code of her emotions, if he would only notice. Her mouth first, now her eyes, her tears, her body physically reacting to the impending emptiness.
"You look like a real spy." It slips out of her mouth unbidden, her first unguarded moment, and unsurprisingly inspired by the genuineness of the man standing before her now.
"You look like a real bridesmaid." His eyes communicate more, that she is more, more real with him than anywhere. More real with him than in her own head. Her middle name is Lisa, she once whispered to him, whispering to him of her past when she dared not indulge in remembering it. His trust, his openness, remind her of what she once had, once was. A real girl. Maybe even his, if the Fates would allow.
(No, no, no -) "Wait, uh, there's something I have to tell you."
"I can't wait, I can't wait, I can't wait any longer, okay?" And as he continued, her heart hurting in her chest, the hollow ache, the utter silence of her heartbeat, all she could think was,
(Oh, God, Chuck. You are going to wish you did…)