Wow! I haven't written in a while have I? No worries though, my current classes have been kicking me in the butt. With five AP classes and marching band in full swing, I've got a lot on my plate. Anyway, I will be releasing the first chapter to "Just a Year" shortly (if you still want it, that is); I think it will be a nice alternate reality to hide in during this season! Enjoy this story though!
FYI, this contains spoilers for Season 6. So far, just of what we've seen.
Twitter - ObjectiveMiss
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In the woods…
The ever intelligent Temperance Brennan found herself in a snowy wood, crystallized water drifting slowly from seemingly nowhere. The flakes drifted soundlessly to the already snow-covered ground, some bits sticking to trees in their decent, framing the forest as a foggy window pane does the winter landscape. It's idyllic really; a scene straight from a holiday greeting card.
A shiny piece of plastic on her shirt catches her eye. She grasps the blazer between her thumb and index fingers, pulling the shirt away from her body in order to get a better look at the tag. "Dr. Temperance Brennan," it reads in bold script, and "award winning writer and forensic anthropologist" in slightly smaller font. A corner of her mouth drops in displeasure; why would a name tag list her as a writer first and an anthropologist second? Regardless, she straightens her short, heat emanating from beneath the thin layer of clothing she wore. In fact, her current attire is nowhere near appropriate for the weather, but yet, she feels no winter chill nipping at her sensitive skin.
Something seems wrong; out of place. It's the feeling she gets when looking over a particularly vexing set of remains, waiting to notice the key detail that could potentially solve the case. She has no recollection of how she even…appeared here. She glances behind her; no footprints to indicate where she had come from.
It's inexplicable really, her boots slid and slipped in reply.
"Where am I?"
The snow merely blinked in reply.
Panic rises, robbing her of her calm demeanor. Nothing seemed to fit together.
Seeing no better alternative, Brennan takes a tentative step forward. The snow compacts with an audible crunch with each and every step. The air remains eerily still as the anthropologist proceeds forward. But unlike a usual walk, the isolation is more perplexing than relaxing.
Footsteps sound to her left; she jerks her head in the sound of the steps. The shadow of a lone individual is barely visible in the darkness of the night as he (or she) strolls down the adjacent furrow. She opens her mouth to call out, but no sound comes out. Her hand flies to her throat, examining the skin for any external signs of damage. She had talked a minute or two ago, hadn't she? But the woods seemed to rob her of any sense of time.
She hears another set of steps, this time to her right. The silhouette is the same as before. Inklings of recognition cause her to squint in thought. Who was that? Why where they here? How where they here? What is here?
"Confused?" An oh so familiar voice rings out.
Desperately Brennan spins about, searching for its source. She scans the landscape, until her keen eyesight trains in on that mysterious shadow, leaning nonchalantly against the trunk of an evergreen tree.
"You know Bones, you might want to bundle up; it's pretty chilly out here, what with the snow and all.
There stand Booth, clad in that grey suit that she loved so much. A blood red tie ringed around his neck, pointing down his signature "cocky" belt buckle. He's toying with his poker chip; a lopsided smirk and a cocked eyebrow beckoned her closer.
"I'm sure you have plenty of questions…as you always do. But-" he stepped closer, leaning close to her hear. So close in fact, that his hot breath caressed my cheek cruelly, "there are only a few I can answer at this point in time."
Brennan's eyes looked over his shoulder to the woods, trying to avoid his heated gaze for her own sake.
"You want to know where we are…don't you?" His hand slides down to the small of her back, his nimble fingers tracing soothing circles.
An involuntary gasp escapes from her as he nuzzles her head to the side.
"I don't know where we are…"
Her eyes widen.
"But we can find out together."
She opens her mouth so speak, but she finds herself once again devoid of a voice. It was akin to being in a vacuum; without a medium, sound cannot travel.
"Let me give you a hand there Bones," he leans down to the junction between her neck and shoulder. His lips trace a column of fire from there, down to her clavicle. "Any better?" He smiled in a way that made one want to melt into a viscous puddle.
This simply was not Booth, certainly not him at all. His conduct was highly unprofessional given the state of their current…relationship.
"Don't be so surprised, none of this is real."
"What do you mean?" she stammers out; her first words after quite a bit of involuntary silence.
"I only say it because you were thinking it. You can't tell me you didn't have a feeling that this couldn't be happening, right? But let's talk as we walk, okay?
They walk in silence for a few paces, just enjoying the company. A familiar pace settles between the two; it is not one that is chosen, rather, one that drives one forward like a snare drummer.
She nods, logical mind screaming in vain protest. Brennan had already surmised that this place was out of ordinary. Could she be dreaming? And if so, what could possibly go wrong?
"So what do you mean that none of this is real?" she asks.
"I only know what you know Bones…only what you know."
"But your earlier statement surely suggested that-"
"Stop for a sec," he gently grabs her arm, gazing into her eyes.
The feelings begin again. Yes, those feelings that she had desperately suppressed for his own sake. After more or less coming to terms with the attraction she felt, he returned from his tour of duty, beautiful blonde trailing shortly behind. And after seeing them together…well, their relationship was overwhelmingly positive; she couldn't take that away from him. She wanted him to be happy.
"I don't know, I feel like I'm going to kiss you..." he mumbles.
This can't happen. This cannot happen she can't allow it to…for his sake.
"No!" she shouts, surprised at the intensity of her voice. "Y-You said it yourself. We opened a door…" her breath is short, her heart races.
"-And neither of us wanted to step through it."
"Right," she nods uncertainly. "We can't do this. You have Hannah," she babbles, "…she is all you ever wanted. I would never push to destroy the love you share…"
He smiles, "You won't. But you will be waiting, secretly hoping that we'll fall apart. But don't feel badly about it," Booth seems to sense the guilt rising up in her, "I know you can't help it. Your logic was faulty in the first place, after all."
"My logic is never faulty as it is centered upon facts."
"You see," he continues, "logic requires a sound premise. And the excuse of hurting me... not a good one at all."
Brennan pushes forward, hands sheathed in her pockets not knowing what else to do. She and Booth had circled one another for years; Hannah had been the factor the end the stalemate.
"Booth, why am I here?" she stops.
"You don't remember?" he halts a few paces behind her.
She shook her head.
Booth's face contorts in deep thought for a brief moment. "What was the last thing you remember?"
"I-I was in my car... and... oh my..."
Suddenly, she feels the flushing feeling of pooling blood. Her shirt dampens with the thicker-than-water liquid. Shakily, she draws a hand to her abdomen to assess the wound; instinctively, her hand jerks back at the contact of blood. While her work as a forensic anthropologist left her neither squeamish nor weak-stomach, the growing volume of her own blood sends her mind into loops of fear.
Blood accompanies wounds, which are accompanied by pain, yet, she feels none.
"Here, let me get that for you," Booth plants a tender hand upon her torso.
Magically, the blood evaporates, leaving her short clean and dry. Her hand, however, still bears the distinctive red of blood.
"I need to know why I'm here."
"We'll figure it out Bones, we just need to keep walking."
"Why?"
"We've got miles to go to get out of these woods."
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Out of the woods…
"Bones!" Booth frantically cried, flinging himself from his SUV. As fast as his legs to carry him, he ran towards the blaring sirens.
"Sir! You can't come over that line!"
He ignores the yellow tape, barreling past the local law enforcement officers yelling at him to stop.
"This is a restricted accident zone," a burley officer grabs him by the arm.
He twisted like a panicking animal, wrenching his arm from the man's grasp. Never once did it occur to him that a quick flash of his FBI badge could have removed him from this situation as quickly as he had stumbled into it.
"Where is she?" he demanded, his eyes watching the firefighters around the wreckage of what was clearly her Mercedes.
"Who?"
His steeled gaze commands an answer as he pushes past the officer.
"If you're looking for who I think you are looking for, you won't want to go over there," the cop took a step after the FBI agent. "She's alive, but unconscious; the firefighters are still working on getting her out of the car. But honestly, that hunk of metal that she was driving in saved her life. The guys think that they can get her out in once piece."
"What happened?"
"Driver ran a red light."
"Is he hurt?"
"Nope, damn bastard walked away with only minor injuries. Already a driver with some points on his record, we've taken him down to the station to revoke his license."
"W-What can I do?" Booth asks almost rhetorically.
The officer's walkie talkie beeps, signaling him to draw it close to his ear. "Head over to the ambulance, they are gonna take her over to Washington Hospital center."
Numbness overcomes his senses as he wanders towards the ambulance. That officer had been right; he didn't want to see her like that. Ever. No doubt, it would be something that would never leave him. The ring of his cell phone broke him from his dazed state. It was Hannah.
He picked up the phone wordlessly.
"Seeley?"
"Hannah, this isn't a great time."
"Where are you?"
The swallowed hard. "About to head to Washington Hospital Center."
"Are you alright?"
"Yes." Only later would he feel guilt for making her milk him for information. "It's Bones…" he choked.
"Don't say a word, I'll meet you there."
She was great like that, always ready to support him; and he would surely been in need of much support.
"Open up those doors!" a paramedic called out from behind him.
Booth went into solider mode, ready to follow any order that was tossed in his direction.
"I'm coming with you," he asserted.
"Are you her boyfriend?" the paramedic asked hurriedly, waving over the stretcher.
"Yes," he lied, knowing full well that he might be denied if he had said no.
"Hustle!" the emergency worker called to his co-workers, as they pushed her closer and closer.
"We're not even close to being out of the woods yet…"
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Hope you enjoyed! Much more on the way! If you would, pleas drop me a review! It only takes a second, and it will help break off the rust I've acquired over my hiatus. Let me know if you liked it, or even if you still want to see "Just a Year."
I will always reply to every review, as always!