Disclaimer—Characters belong to Chris Fedak and Josh Schwartz. No copyright infringement intended. Any similarity to events or persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
Author's Notes—Unbeta'ed. All mistakes are very much mine.
Spoilers—Chuck versus the Living Dead
Wait—Oh, God, what had she done? Post-ep for Chuck versus the Living Dead
As she sat on the edge of the seat in Justin Sullivan's office, she couldn't help but replay key events of the past three years.
She'd seen the gun. Scratch that, she'd seen the guns. Multiple ones. In the cabinet. What kind of a man kept that sort of weaponry? Someone who wasn't normal, that was who.
Except, card-carrying members of the NRA might've disagreed with her. Well, and Devon.
She ran her fingers through her long dark hair again.
John had acted all strangely, talking about having Malaria three, four times. What kind of a person winds up with Malaria? In Burbank?
Clearly, that meant he'd been other place. Been other places, watching other people...
But, why would he help her?
Why would he have always helped her? Continuously. For the past three years. Since he'd moved in.
Why would he have been a darling guest at Thanksgiving? Why would he have carried her future husband, drunken and passed out, into her house, over his shoulder after a bachelor party gone awry? Why would he have joined them in celebration of her impending nuptials as a welcomed friend?
She shoved those thoughts aside. No. Justin said that wasn't so. Justin showed her a badge, told her her country needed her. That was real.
Except, the longer she sat there, the more her mind churned up images of things she didn't want to see. Images of a smiling neighbor, of an extended member of her family.
And she didn't have much of one. She didn't have uncles or aunts or cousins in the traditional sense. She had her one blood relative who'd always been there, Chuck. And she had Morgan, as much as she hated to admit that sometimes. And then there was Devon, and then there was Sarah and then there was...
And then there was John.
John, who she'd managed to smash in the head with a frying pan.
What was he going to tell her? What was he going to say? Some lies about why he was there, sneaking in her apartment most likely. Was he going to tell her that Justin was wrong, that he wasn't after her father, that he wasn't...
She got to her feet.
Oh, God, what had she done?
John had been at the rehearsal dinner. With her father.
Why would John have been after him all along if he'd just... stood there? Sharing champagne and cigars. Why would he have let his target just walk away?
A sickening feeling took to her stomach.
She'd been wrong.
She'd been wrong and she'd fallen for it, whatever it was. Who was Justin? What was he after?
She nearly doubled over. What had she done to her father?
She steeled her reserve. She had to stay strong. She had to stay strong and she had to get out of there. She had to check on John, on her father... She was going to have to come clean to all of them and take the repercussions, whatever they might be.
But first, she had to get out of Justin's office.