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Chuck - Ellie (possibly with Ellie/Awesome), secrets
Devon slept on the couch that night. Which wasn’t unusual these last few weeks, actually, but given that he’d had a total meltdown--obey, like he was from some entirely different planet than the Devon Woodcombe she’d married?—Ellie was more worried about it now.
This was about Chuck, somehow. Chuck and maybe Casey. Could Casey’s drinking have gotten them in even bigger trouble than Chuck had admitted? But Ellie was beginning to think that Sarah was a part of—whatever—too, and so alcoholism didn’t explain everything that was wrong with the people she loved.
The thought that Chuck’s secret girlfriend was the answer had been a great mood-enhancer, like a fresh chocolate croissant and a cup of coffee at the end of a twenty-hour shift. But like a resident at the end of one of those shifts, Ellie hadn’t exactly been thinking clearly when she rejoiced, because the fact of the matter was that Secret Girlfriend didn’t explain Devon in the slightest. Devon might have helped Chuck conceal his new sweetheart from her for a while, but the freakout over Paris was definitely not girlfriend-related.
Devon was Awesome, nobody knew that better than she did, bopping through life with an ease and a joy that had made her love him almost before they’d left that supply closet. The thing about Devon was that he didn’t think that his charmed life made him any better than anyone else, the way most of the rich kids she’d met in med school did. He saw the good in everyone, and if he wasn’t as proficient at worrying as she was, that was a burden Ellie was willing to bear for the both of them.
So whatever had Devon so freaked out that he couldn’t sleep, couldn’t even work out—it had to be bad.
‘Obey’ hadn’t been anywhere near their vows. But the other stuff—fidelity, love, support in hard times as well as sweet—Ellie was all over that. Anything that had Devon this tangled up couldn’t be simple, and it couldn’t be good.
Her husband and her little brother needed her, even if they hadn’t figured that out yet. Ellie had grown up taking responsibility for Chuck, and she’d always been proud of the job she’d done, even when Chuck hadn’t been able to be proud of himself. She was not going to lose him, or Devon, to some weird hidden agenda.
She’d never told Chuck this, but at the end of college, she’d been recruited by the CIA. Something about her test scores. She’d said no, of course: ‘CIA’ and ‘doctor’ were not words that anyone sensible wanted to hear in the same sentence. But it had been nice to be asked, and she knew she could shake the truth loose from her men if she put her mind to it.
Ellie Bartowski-Woodcombe didn’t watch someone suffering and not pitch in to help fix it.
veritykindle Chuck - Ellie (possibly with Ellie/Awesome), secrets
Devon slept on the couch that night. Which wasn’t unusual these last few weeks, actually, but given that he’d had a total meltdown--obey, like he was from some entirely different planet than the Devon Woodcombe she’d married?—Ellie was more worried about it now.
This was about Chuck, somehow. Chuck and maybe Casey. Could Casey’s drinking have gotten them in even bigger trouble than Chuck had admitted? But Ellie was beginning to think that Sarah was a part of—whatever—too, and so alcoholism didn’t explain everything that was wrong with the people she loved.
The thought that Chuck’s secret girlfriend was the answer had been a great mood-enhancer, like a fresh chocolate croissant and a cup of coffee at the end of a twenty-hour shift. But like a resident at the end of one of those shifts, Ellie hadn’t exactly been thinking clearly when she rejoiced, because the fact of the matter was that Secret Girlfriend didn’t explain Devon in the slightest. Devon might have helped Chuck conceal his new sweetheart from her for a while, but the freakout over Paris was definitely not girlfriend-related.
Devon was Awesome, nobody knew that better than she did, bopping through life with an ease and a joy that had made her love him almost before they’d left that supply closet. The thing about Devon was that he didn’t think that his charmed life made him any better than anyone else, the way most of the rich kids she’d met in med school did. He saw the good in everyone, and if he wasn’t as proficient at worrying as she was, that was a burden Ellie was willing to bear for the both of them.
So whatever had Devon so freaked out that he couldn’t sleep, couldn’t even work out—it had to be bad.
‘Obey’ hadn’t been anywhere near their vows. But the other stuff—fidelity, love, support in hard times as well as sweet—Ellie was all over that. Anything that had Devon this tangled up couldn’t be simple, and it couldn’t be good.
Her husband and her little brother needed her, even if they hadn’t figured that out yet. Ellie had grown up taking responsibility for Chuck, and she’d always been proud of the job she’d done, even when Chuck hadn’t been able to be proud of himself. She was not going to lose him, or Devon, to some weird hidden agenda.
She’d never told Chuck this, but at the end of college, she’d been recruited by the CIA. Something about her test scores. She’d said no, of course: ‘CIA’ and ‘doctor’ were not words that anyone sensible wanted to hear in the same sentence. But it had been nice to be asked, and she knew she could shake the truth loose from her men if she put her mind to it.
Ellie Bartowski-Woodcombe didn’t watch someone suffering and not pitch in to help fix it.
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