John Casey x Reader (Chuck)

Chapter 2

(TW: Mentions of SA)

They silently sat across from one another, separated by a coffee table adorned with two cups of tea. Y/N sat on the sofa, wrapped up in a blanket to combat the chill of Casey's air conditioning. He sat on the chair across from her. 

It had been about an hour since Casey got home, and they agreed they would each take a few minutes to formulate exactly what should be said between them. Y/N spent the majority of that time looking around his living room -- a small brown sofa, coffee table, a chair, and a TV atop a wooden stand. On either sides of the television, there were slim bookcases which were mostly barren. 

In the hour, Casey managed to collect himself. It had been at least two years since he had had such a strong and sudden urge of emotions -- probably when they last said goodbye. He also tried to come to terms with the fact that, yes, she was on his couch.  

"Where did they put you?" He asked quietly, finally deeming himself ready to hear more. 

"I was stationed in Greece," She answered, mentally preparing herself for what was to come. 

"Your assignment?"

Y/N took a deep breath. "They placed me undercover under my old alias, Victoria Holden. Victoria, of course, is an art forger. They placed me close to an arms and drugs dealer who lived on the island of Kefalonia, with the idea that I could just observe him at first. One day, while I was at the same cafe as him, he walked up to me. I thought my cover was blown, but he asked me to get a cup of coffee with him. He told me I was one of the few young women on the islands who wasn't married, and asked if I could babysit his kid full time. I said yes, and it became a long con."

"Okay," Casey nodded, leaning back slightly in his chair. 

"It wasn't supposed to be a high risk assignment -- we planned that he would find me forging paintings in the studio of my apartment, to maybe build up some trust between us. Ideally, we wanted him to try and traffic one of my paintings. On the day we had him walk into my studio, he..." Y/N hadn't realized she started crying until her voice cracked. She took a deep breath and finished her story, "He raped me."

She looked up at Casey, whose expression seemed to harden into an unreadable mask. He eventually let out a shaky breath, before nodding for her to continue on. 

Y/N played with the end of the blanket she was wrapped around, moving it through her fingers, "After that, I told Beckman I had had enough with government work, and I wanted out. She told higher ups that I was having a psychotic break due to the trauma and they placed me in a series of mental facilities for about a year. Six months ago, I was deemed stable, and I was told they would give me more time." 

Y/N left out the part where she stole and ransomed a senior member of the N.S.A.'s car until they agreed to give her additional time off. She also didn't mention the fact that when she was assaulted, half a dozen N.S.A. agents were stationed around her building, and didn't help her at all. They had been ordered not to by someone. 

After a moment, Casey managed to croak out a vital question: "What is his name?"

"I promised not to tell you, Casey. They told me not too -- they know what you'll do to him, and they need him alive."

Casey nodded, and she could see the anger boiling within him, and how hard he was fighting to keep it down -- no doubt for her benefit. After a moment, he looked directly at her, his face morphing into a new, strange expression as he asked, "Can I touch you?"

Y/N nodded, prompting him to get up and join her on the sofa, where he pulled her into his chest. She felt the shakiness of his breaths beneath her head as she wrapped her arms around him, thankful for the comfort.