Chapter One: In the Jungle, the Mighty Jungle
AN: Hi everyone! College is on break and so I have some free time to write. I have a lot of stories on my mind, but I'm not sure if they're what my loyal viewers would like to read. So what I'm doing is posting a one-shot that can be expanded into a full-fledged story (like this one) that hopefully will be enjoyable for everyone. It all depends on the feedback I receive people!
I don't own Chuck, that's NBC (ugh) and TPTB.
*Update 12/23/10: I made corrections to this chapter. Enjoy!
The two spies charged through the incredibly dense jungle. Traveling only a few paces apart, they zigzagged in and out of the narrow maze with no intention of stopping. They were running for their lives. Not too far behind them, a cacophony of angry voices echoed with a righteous boom; bullets were flying in every direction. The rounds fired hadn't been accurate, missing their intended targets to ricochet off the trees and forest floor. The faster of the duo drew her gun after hurdling over a gnarled log. She was able to pop off a couple of shots before falling back into a sprint.
The other spy was doing his best to keep up with her. He found it to be a great task in itself. The satchel strapped across his chest was swinging erratically whilst he ran. Every step resulted in his mess of curls bouncing into his line of vision. He'd brush them away; then glance quickly over his shoulder to see if anyone was still pursuing them. He saw no one. The beginnings of a smile stretched over his face, but not before a bullet whizzed a millimeter away from his head. Brown eyes widened to the size of saucers.
"Honey, please tell me you know where we are going?" hallored the curly-haired spy.
"I don't have the faintest idea, but neither do they," replied an out of breath Sarah Walker. Her voice had a slight edge to it as she spoke, "We just need to keep moving, Chuck."
Chuck Bartowski heaved an exasperated sigh. They had been running for what it seemed to be hours. Sooner or later his legs were going to betray him. But he did not want to tell Sarah any of this. She was currently in agent-mode; shaping a path out of the undergrowth so they could seek an escape route. Not wanting to disturb her, Chuck kept his mouth shut. Sarah took a sharp turn to the left and he followed like a diligent soldier. Neither of them broke rhythm: they went deeper into the jungle, to where the atmosphere shifted almost immediately. What was once bright and clear became gloomy with an impenetrable darkness surrounding them. The air turned thick, humid. Chuck found it increasingly difficult to breathe. The heat seemed to have been sucking all of the moister from his body, leaving him feeling like he was in a daze. Disorientated, Chuck lost his footing in a patch of mud and tripped. He fell with a hard thud. He found himself on all fours with sludge covering him from head to toe. Wiping his face off with the back of his hand, he spat the dirt from his mouth. He then began to remove himself from the mess but found he was stuck. The sound of gunfire closing in wasn't lost on Chuck. That's when he started to panic.
Chuck shouted frantically: "Sarah, help please!"
Sarah's ears perked up. Her sprint slowed into a brisk walk as she craned her neck in one motion. Chuck was immersed in what appeared to be muddy lagoon. She inwardly rolled her eyes at his clumsiness. Spying wasn't able to fully dimish that trait of his. Sarah would've even laughed if the circumstances were different. But lives were on the line-mainly theirs. She hurriedly backtracked towards him; reached out a hand and beckoned for him to take it. Chuck clasped his hand in hers and was hoisted up to his feet. Not a momebt had passed and the duo was back to running once more.
"Thanks," Chuck said with upmost gratitude. He had galloped beside her; rewarding her selfless deed with a wide grin. She returned his gesture with a smile of her own. It faded however once her eyes caught something troubling.
Her bliss was shortlived. "I wouldn't thank me just yet." She told him morosely.
Chuck noted the worrisome gilmmer in her blue eyes and he too felt all of the euphoria for the rush of the chase leave him completely. His brows knitted together in confusion. "And why's that?"
Sarah came to an abrupt stop. Chuck cautiously followed suit while giving her a weird look. Sarah hardly ever showed even a hint of fear. She was normally so composed. Chuck concentrated on her expression for a brief time, and then he tore his gaze away to find what had upset Sarah so badly. It was a dead end. Ahead of them was the edge of a cliff. It overlooked a small lake that was at least a fifty foot drop. Chuck then heard the steady rumbling of a nearby waterfall. They were standing on top of it. The fresh water rushed between their feet as it flowed freely through the cobblestone creek all the way where it cascaded down the cliff itself. A powerful mist hovered in the air and stuck mercilessly onto their skin.
Chuck felt his fingers clench the satchel involuntarily. His heart was pounding hard in his chest; blood was rushing into his ears. It distracted him from the overpowering roar of the waterfall. It almost rivaled it. A frown tugged on the corners of his mouth while his stomach began to do summersaults.
We're doomed, he realized
"We need to jump."
Sarah's calm voice brought Chuck out of his distraught thoughts. He whipped his head and gave her a quick double-take. Sarah missed it, and approached the end of the cliff. She studied the drop with great consideration. Chuck saw that she had that look in her eyes. He felt bile rise up in his throat, begging she was not really thinking about actually going through with it.
"Are you serious?" Chuck's voice went up an octave. "We can't jump! We're up way too high! We won't make it! It's suicidal!"
"If we don't try, those men will find us and kill us anyway," she countered. "We have no choice. At least if we do die, it'll be on our terms…"
Chuck was still giving her an incredulous look. "You really know how to put things into perspective," he deadpanned. "I think that's what I love about you most."
She dismissed his sarcastic remark. Facing him, she said seriously. "Chuck, I know how to make the appropriate jump from this kind of height but you'll be seriously injured from a fall like this…we can't afford that so I need you to flash."
Chuck crept to the edge, peered downward and cringed. "Flash…god, Sarah. I've been flashing enough for a lifetime...I don't think the Intersect or my mind can take it—"
A single bullet emerged from the growth of trees and almost clipped Chuck once again. He yelped in surprise, shooting straight into the air. The Intersect instantly activated itself and a flash consumed him. Information on how to cliff-dive flooded his senses, filling him with the appropriate confidence to get the task done. Images of famous Olympic divers imprinted into his brain and stuck there. Once the flash ended, Chuck's eyes sharpened with determination. He looked to Sarah with his trademarked smirk and nodded.
He was ready.
So was she.
And so they jumped.
The free fall lasted for only seconds but it felt more like an eternity. When Chuck finally penetrated the lake's surface, he felt his entire body scream in protest. Water was rushing around him, through him, above him, so deafening that the hail of gunfire which cut through the water was just background noise. His body was suspended in the vast depths; small bubbles trickled from his open mouth.
I'm alive. He thought in wonder. Then he opened his eyes and spun around. Where's Sarah?
He felt something prod his shoulder and he turned. Sarah was hovering beside him with a look of alarm. Chuck frowned. What was wrong? But then it hit him. A burst of pain suddenly enveloped his right leg and he screamed. The water surrounding them was dyed a crimson red. Chuck looked down and saw that there was a hole burrowed deep in his upper thigh. Blood was seeping out, clouding his vision.
I got shot. I GOT SHOT. It had only dawned on him that this was the first time he had been actually harmed by a live firearm. He mentally chuckled—mostly because he was losing consciousness and had to laugh at the irony of it all. His vision began to grow fuzzy. Breathing was a lost luxury as was movement. He felt himself sinking further into the lake; Sarah had become only a faint outline. Chuck closed his eyes and waited for the impending blackness to carry him away.
He had no strength to open his eyes and see his savior's identity. All he wanted to do was rest and pretend that everything he had just gone through in the past twenty-four hours was only a horrible dream.
A pair of wet lips pressed onto his. Then a panting voice spoke from over his head; choking through tears.
"Chuck, wake up!"
Nothing but the shock of such a warm kiss could have given Chuck the energy to open his eyes. Coughing up a mouthful of water, he staggered to a sitting position. Kneeling before him was Sarah, fully dressed but drenched to the skin, blonde hair plastered to her face. Both hands were softly caressing his cheeks.
"W-where are we?" He asked dumbly. His eyes shifted back and forth, still dicombobulated by his near-death experience. His leg then exploded into a fiery pain. He cursed, "Argh, dammit!"
Sarah's hands left his face and fell to the site of the wound. They roamed freely, examining where the bullet originally entered and then were it made its exit. Holding his leg steady, Sarah glanced up to Chuck and gave him comforting smile. Chuck relaxed a little, but not much. Everything still hurt like hell.
"Chuck, I need you to calm down," she instructed.
Chuck yelled: "Calm down? Sarah, I was shot!"
"It's not that bad. The bullet hit you above the knee and seemed to have just passed through. You're lucky it didn't hit the femoral artery." Sarah explained with a sigh of relief. Her voice became merely a whisper, "You would've bled out in seconds."
Chuck shuddered at the thought.
Sarah pulled a knife from out of her top and proceeded to cut away at the portion of Chuck's jeans that surrounded the wound. She tore the fabric to reveal a small bullet hole in his thigh. Chuck gave it a quick look before his face paled; he averted his eyes and concentrated on the lake instead. It appeared that Sarah had dragged him into a small cavern that was hidden behind the waterfall. There was no way that those men would ever find them down there.
"You're going to be fine," he heard Sarah say to him. She sounded confident in the statement and Chuck believed her. "All I need to do is make a tourniquet so you don't lose anymore blood…"
"How are you going to do that?"
Sarah removed her jacket and placed it underneath his leg. She then wrapped it around the wound and tied it into a knot. Lifting her gaze up to him, she backed up to her feet and receded back into the pool of water.
"Where are you going?" Chuck asked.
"I'll be back in a sec," she assured him. Then added, "Don't freak out."
And with that, she was gone. For several minutes Chuck waited in silence. His mind was incredibly hazy as his body was weakened from the lack of food, water, and now his new injury. All he wanted to do was sleep but he knew it'd be a bad idea. He tried to remain calm and awake as he waited patiently for Sarah to return. Just as his eyes began to droop, she had come back; crouched down before him with a stick clutched between her fingers.
He raised an eyebrow.
"You left me for a stick?" he asked in disbelief. "What's that supposed to do?"
"This will save your life," Sarah explained. She used each knot provided by the jacket to wrap around both ends of the stick; then twisted the stick around several revolutions until Chuck felt a stab of pain, and then nothing but a dull throb. "Feel better?"
Chuck blinked. He stared down at his leg, flexing it up and down. "Surprisingly, yes, for now anyways." he paused for a moment and then changed the subject. "Do you think they're gone?"
Sarah bit her lip; turned to look beyond the waterfall's veil. "Maybe," she guessed. "It's getting late and they probably think if we're not dead, we're at least injured or out of options…They'll be back tomorrow. This is why we need to be gone before they arrive."
"Great," Chuck sighed and removed the satchel and placed it on the ground. He did not want to look at it anymore. It was the cause of all their troubles. The stupid satchel with its equally stupid contents hidden inside. Why couldn't they have just ignored it? Why did a simple flash have to ruin everything? He rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed. He lifted his eyes to Sarah, jesting, "This must be the greatest honeymoon of all time, huh?"
Sarah wringed her hair and a touch of a smile crossed her lips. She took a seat next to Chuck and nudged him playfully. "We're alive and still together despite everything. That has to count for something."
Chuck smiled lopsidedly; snaked an arm around her shoulder and brought her closer to him. He pressed a kiss firmly onto her damp forehead as she nestled into the crook of his neck. She felt him gently stroking her hair. Her eyes dropped to where her hand was intertwined with his: two rings sparkled brilliantly in the sunlight.
"It counts for something," Chuck agreed with a whisper. "Mrs. Bartowski."
Her heart soared whenever Chuck called her his wife. It made the most terrible circumstances bearable. Because she was his and he was hers. They were unified, joined together to death till they part. Nothing could change that. And as the sun began its descent behind the horizon, and darkness reigned over them, there was a steady downpour of rain outside of the cave. This lulled the newlyweds into a peaceful sleep, in which the dreamed of a brighter future.
An: So how was it? Depending on the reviews, I'll decide whether I want to continue/discontinue the story. I have a lot of ideas for this one! If you haven't noticed, this deals with Chuck and Sarah's honeymoon that obviously goes haywire. Most of my inspiration for this story comes from the PS3 game, Uncharted and the Showtime series, Weeds. And of course Chuck. This will be totally C/S with little Casey/Morgan/Beckman etc. There should also be a cameo by Carina somewhere so yeah! :D