The wheels touched down at LAX just after noon. The flight had been quiet, uneventful — but my mind had been anything but. Every flicker of information in my head, every new memory burned into me by the Intersect, every lesson from The Farm replayed on a loop.
But all of that vanished the moment I stepped into the terminal and heard a voice cry out above the noise.
"Chuck!"
Ellie came barreling toward me, weaving through the crowd, her face lit up in the brightest smile I'd seen in months. Before I could even brace myself, she slammed into me with a bear hug so fierce it nearly cracked my ribs.
Her arms locked tight around my chest, cutting off my breath.
"God, I missed you," she said, her voice muffled against my shoulder.
I coughed, gasping dramatically. "El—airway… compromised…" I wheezed, grinning through it. "You're supposed to love me, not kill me."
She laughed through tears, finally loosening her grip enough for me to breathe. "Sorry! I just— I can't believe you're actually here."
When she pulled back, Devon was right behind her, flashing that perfect smile as he clapped me on the shoulder.
"Welcome back, bro! Burbank's been way too dull without you." His eyes scanned me, doctor instincts kicking in. He tilted his head. "Whoa, wait a second. You've put on some serious muscle since we last saw you."
Ellie blinked, then stepped back and gave me a once-over. Her eyes widened. "Oh my God… you have! Chuck, you've— you've filled out." She touched my arm in disbelief. "When did this happen?"
Morgan squinted, his jaw dropping. "Dude! You're, like, broad now! Did they feed you protein shakes at that company training or what?"
I laughed, shrugging like it was nothing. "Guess all that time away finally did me some good."
Devon chuckled knowingly. "Whatever they had you doing, it worked. You're rocking some serious delts, bro."
Ellie shook her head but couldn't stop smiling. "Well… I don't care how it happened. I'm just glad you're home."
And then Morgan crashed into me, hugging me like a kid. "Chuckster! Finally! My partner in crime is back!"
I grinned, ruffling his hair. "Good to see you, little buddy. How's culinary school?"
"Almost done, man!" he said proudly. "One more semester and I'll be Chef Grimes. Until then, Buy More still owns my soul."
"Proud of you, buddy," I said warmly. "When I get settled, you're making me the first official Morgan Grimes special."
Ellie wiped her eyes, looping her arm through mine. "Come on, let's get you home. I made up your old room. You're not staying in some corporate apartment, not while I'm here."
"Home sounds perfect," I said softly.
The drive back to Burbank was surreal. Palm trees, familiar streets, even the tacky neon glow of the Buy More sign as we passed — everything looked the same.
But I wasn't the same.
Inside, the Intersect buzzed. Every storefront, every billboard, every passing car triggered flashes of intel — dossiers, schematics, classified files. A flood of secrets buried under the surface of the ordinary world.
But I smiled and kept it hidden. To them, I was just Chuck Bartowski. Stanford graduate. New job. Finally back where I belonged.
By the time we pulled into the courtyard of the Echo Park apartments, nostalgia hit hard. The fountain still sputtered, the neighbors still shouted from balconies.
Ellie squeezed my arm, beaming. "It feels right, doesn't it? You, back here again. Burbank is where you're supposed to be."
I glanced at her, at Devon, at Morgan struggling with my bags, and smiled. "Yeah. Right where I'm supposed to be."
The next morning, I was barely halfway through unpacking when Ellie cornered me in the kitchen.
"So," she said, arms crossed, "when do I get to see this new job of yours?"
I blinked. "My job?"
"The think tank," she pressed. "You disappear for months, and then you tell me you're running some big company division in Burbank? You think I'm not going to check it out?"
Devon grinned from behind his smoothie. "Yeah, man. I'm in. Gotta see where the big brain's working his magic."
Morgan popped his head in, already nosing through my fridge. "Count me in too! I wanna see if your office has a snack bar. Or at least a foosball table. What's a think tank without foosball?"
I chuckled, shaking my head. "You guys don't waste any time, do you?"
Ellie softened, her eyes shining. "Chuck, I just want to make sure you're okay. That this place isn't running you into the ground. I'm your sister. It's my job."
I hugged her again — careful this time to guard my airway. "I know, El. And you will. You'll see."
The following day, I drove them out to the building.
From the outside, it looked perfect: sleek, modern, curved glass walls reflecting the California sky. White paneling gleamed under the sun, the architecture sharp and pristine.
Ellie's eyes widened as she stepped out of the car. "Wow… Chuck, this is impressive."
Devon gave a low whistle. "This place is huge. You're running this?"
Morgan's jaw dropped. "This doesn't look like a think tank. This looks like where Iron Man parks his suits."
I laughed. "Don't get too excited. You're only seeing the public side. Mostly cubicles, analysts, people crunching numbers. The glamorous offices are for the folks who sign the checks."
Ellie smiled, squeezing my hand. "Still. It feels like you finally found where you belong."
I led them toward the glass doors, my smile calm and easy.
They had no idea.
Because what they would see today was only the cover — the lobby, the research floors, the harmless whiteboards filled with equations, the analysts tinkering with prototypes that didn't matter.
The real Carmichael Industries — the secure floors, the labs, the operations center that could launch missions worldwide — stayed hidden, locked behind clearance levels they'd never touch.
For Ellie, for Devon, for Morgan, this would always be just a job.
And that was how it had to be.