This little ficlet was inspired by a prompt challenge at Live Journal's "Bones Gambler's Anonymous." It's a fun community and this was my first official posting there. I thought I'd put it here, as well.
The Prompt: The Man in the Cell - What if Booth hadn't figured it out in time and Brennan was left alone with Howard Epps just as he had wanted?
Just a little something for a Monday. Hope you like it! Thanks Alanna and Jena for the feedback and beta work. :)
"How you feeling?"
"Like I got poisoned," Cam coughed out and Booth felt his legs weaken a bit in relief. She was cracking jokes. She was going to be okay.
He sat down next to her bed and took her hand. "Cam…"
"You're not even going to wait until I'm better?" Her eyes were understanding, but her soft smile was a little bit sad. "It's not very chivalrous to break up with a dying woman."
"You're not dying." He swallowed.
"Not anymore."
"You knew?"
"Seeley, my job is the human body. I recognized what was happening to me. Of course I knew."
"It never should have happened. I forced you to break protocol and the only reason that happened was because of our relationship. If we weren't…"
"If we weren't sleeping together I wouldn't have felt bad enough about Parker to saw into Caroline Epps' head?" Cam shook her head slightly. "We've been friends for a long time, Seeley, long before we started having sex. Don't be so sure I wouldn't have done it."
"Still…there's a line-"
"And you don't want to cross it anymore," she finished for him.
"I think…I think it has to be this way."
"It's been fun."
He smiled. "Yeah."
"With the exception of the poisonous plaster dust, of course," she joked.
"Plaster dust," Booth repeated.
"Yeah. I overheard the nurse—"
"Plaster dust." He jumped to his feet. "I gotta go."
"What's wrong?"
But she was talking to herself because Booth was already gone.
OoO
Brennan cocked her gun. "Plaster dust? Renovations in the apartment next door? It's the only scenario that made sense. You're not that smart, turns out."
Epps smirked. "But here we are, alone, just like I wanted. Maybe I'm smarter than you think."
"What do you want, Howie?"
"Isn't it obvious?"
"Apparently not."
"I just want to win the game."
"I think you want to kill me." She never backed down from the truth.
"That's the very end."
"You want to torture me first." She wasn't asking. She knew the answer.
"I'd like to pick your brain."
"I'm thinking you mean that literally."
"Very good Dr. Brennan. Poor Agent Booth. Imagine how sad he will be to find your beautiful mind literally picked to pieces."
"You're forgetting something, Howie."
"What's that?"
"I have a gun. A big one. And I'll use it if you take one more step forward."
"Brains over brawn, Dr. Brennan," Epps grinned. "The only question is: which one of us is smarter?"
OoO
Booth raced to Brennan's apartment, dialing her both her home phone and her cell phone over and over and over and getting no response.
"Come on, Bones, pick up," he growled as he got her voicemail for the sixth time. "Dammit!" He swore, ending the call and dialing the agent who was supposed to be watching her. "Where is Dr. Brennan?"
"She's in her apartment. It was clear. We checked it."
"No! No! Check the apartment next door. I've got an ETA of 2 minutes, but I promise you Epps is there. "
"Next door?"
"Well, let's hope like hell he's not in her apartment."
"You want us to go in?"
"Wait for me. If he's in there, we can't afford to spook him. He'll kill her in a heartbeat." Everything inside him seized as he spoke the words. It was a reality he really didn't want to consider. "I'm 90 seconds away. Wait for me!" He ordered again. He punched "end call" and dialed Brennan's cell again.
No answer.
He dialed her home.
No answer.
He screeched to a halt in front of her building, threw open his car door and ran into the lobby.
"What have you got?" He barked at the agent stationed near the elevator.
"They are checking the apartment next door right now, Sir."
Booth veered for the stairs, the elevator too slow an option. He took the steps two and three at a time, his heart racing, not with exertion, but with fear.
He burst through the door into the hall on her floor, where two agents were just leaving the neighboring apartment.
"What do you know?" Booth asked, purposely pushing his volume low to avoid alerting Epps.
"He's not in there. There's a hole, though, cut in the wall. It goes to Dr. Brennan's apartment. Near as we can tell without going in, it leads into her closet."
"He's in there with her." Booth's throat went dry and he died a little inside. "I'm going in."
He drew his gun and motioned to the agent to unlock the door.
But instead of hearing the quiet click of the lock, he heard the deafening bang of a gunshot.
He didn't hesitate a millisecond, kicking her front door, once, twice, the third time ripping it entirely off its hinges.
"Bones!" He shouted, desperately hoping she'd respond. "Bones!" He rounded the corner and stopped short. "Oh, thank God," he muttered as relief flooded him
She stood over Epps' body, his blood spattered onto her clothes and face, her gun still pointed at the dead man. "I…I don't think he thought I would kill him." She said, dazed.
"Yeah, well, he was wrong." He crouched down and checked Epps' pulse for good measure. "He's dead."
"I know." But the gun and her gaze remained pointed at Epps.
He stood. "Gimme the gun, Bones." He put his hand out, but she didn't look at him, didn't hand over the weapon. He tried again. "It's okay. He's dead." Gently, he placed one hand over both of hers. "Let go, Bones."
She blinked hard and let him have her weapon. "He said he wanted to pick my brain."
Booth looked towards Epps and blanched when he saw an ice pick laying nearby. "Jesus!" He swore under his breath.
"He kept walking towards me. I warned him. But he kept going."
"You had no choice."
"I really didn't." She began to shake, her entire body wracked with adrenaline and fear and relief and horror. "Booth…"
"It's okay. You did what you had to do."
"Yeah." Her voice shook, too.
He pulled her to him. "C'mere."
She melted into his shoulder as he enveloped her into his arms, taking as much comfort as he was giving.
He'd nearly lost her and the relief he felt at holding her, safe and alive in his embrace made one thing very clear:
It was going to be damn hard to draw that line.
