Disclaimer: I do not own Bones.

A/N: So this is an edited chapter. I didn't like the one I had before and think this is much better. Read and enjoy!


Auburn bangs felt the warm skin of her forehead as she drove steadily towards her home. Brennan gazed heavily at the road with her cerulean eyes, thinking distantly.

You can love a lot of people in this world, but there's only one person that you love the most.

Why had he told her that? What good did it do if he wouldn't let her…? Booth's demeanor had been dark, she chewed her lip as she remembered, and his poignant stare had cut deep into her. Those words had been like a swig of alcohol, a sting to the tongue and a soothing to a troubled mind, yet predominantly useless.

She sighed tiredly, entering the parking lot of the condo complex with impatience. Finding a space, she frustratingly pressed forward, turned off the engine, and looked at the passenger seat for her laptop and files. Brennan didn't feel like moving, just hearing the wind outside her car calmed her. She knew that dwelling on thoughts of Booth only hurt her in the long run, but it was involuntary and so easy to do, she never considered the action twice. Straightening, Brennan gathered her things in her right arm and pushed open the door, stepping outside. It was incredibly windy, she noticed with a critical eye, for such a humid day. The darkness above beckoned her to shut her eyes, sleep. Blinking away the drowsiness, Brennan locked the door shut and began her way to the familiar home she had near.

It was bad, she thought, to keep having Booth always around. How was it fair that he berate her for denying him before, but now he denied her? Brennan sighed, rubbing her forehead at a headache that was hovering.

The sound of her steps rang in the lot. With a worrying suspicion, she strained her ears to hear someone behind her. Pursing her lips, Brennan wondered if she should turn and observe who it was. On one hand he could be a resident here, just like her, or he could be potentially dangerous. Paranoia was Hodgins' forte, so she continued to walk until she missed the crack in the sidewalk and clumsily fell.

An ankle sprained, the blue-eyed woman muttered painfully. "Great."

"Don't move." A young man suddenly kneeled before her, examining the injury by lightly pushing away her pants' leg.

"I'm fine," She raised her voice a bit, but didn't finish. His cool fingers caused goose bumps to rise across her skin.

Brennan was about to complain when he turned to her and suggested he carry her. A complete stranger, she told herself. Close to declining, a set of piercing bright eyes fell on her with question.

She nodded, taken aback a bit, dry-mouthed.

"I suppose this means I have to get you into bed as well." Brennan indignantly blushed, her eyes widening a fraction. Shouldn't she be offended?

She raised a finger. "That is-" He slid his arms beneath her, lifting her too gently. She ignored the flutter-feeling in her stomach. "-true, I suppose." Her index finger fell, sighing in defeat. Her nervous hands grabbed the fallen laptop and open file when he offered them.

"I'm Derek." He spoke in a collected voice, smiling slyly, somehow unintentionally seductive. "I do apologize for meeting on such unfortunate timing."

"You have nothing to be sorry for." She corrected distractedly. His cologne invaded her senses, their proximity surprisingly close. His curly hair was an onyx coloring, the dark locks shining upon the moonlight against his pale skin. He was so handsome, she thought with glassy eyes, although inside feeling slightly silly.

Derek carried her into the building and to her door as she bluntly ogled the man. His bright eyes turned on her, his boyish face glancing at her with a crescent smile, his dark eyebrows raising. Waiting patiently.

Brennan realized. "Oh the keys!" She fumbled in her pocket for the silver object and pushed it into his hand. She felt his cool fingertips touch hers, gasping quietly. She'd been so distracted that she had barely felt how strangely cold he was. How odd, she mused.

The anthropologist grasped his shoulder once he opened the door, studying him again with curiosity. "I think I'll be fine now. Thank you, though, that was very generous of you -to carry me here." His radiant eyes showed concern, then suddenly shaking his head he smiled as he set her down on the nearby couch.

"You need to go to a doctor in the morning." Derek advised, his face so close she could see unblemished skin. Beautiful, the word echoed in her head. "I hope you get better."

Brennan nodded slowly, frustratingly distracted by his presence.

"I-" The thick air between them (or was it just her imagination?) was nearly suffocating her, she couldn't breathe. Her wide cerulean eyes had lost themselves in his, the ticking of her vintage clock the only sound but her own shallow breaths.

Derek looked softly at her, his eyebrows pulled in worry. "You can let go now." He whispered, as if someone would hear. Blood rushed to her cheeks, her lips parted to defend her foolishness but the words were lodged in her throat.

She hated being alone. Lately, she just wanted some company since Booth had been dating Hannah. It was like no one even desired her (the drunk men at the bar were not included, even those who were mildly sober) -at least that's how it felt. Having this man so near gave her a confident, yearning sense. For once she felt embarrassed at her desperate thoughts.

The auburn-haired scientist was still latched onto Derek, her arms in the position they had been while he had carried her. Wrapped around his neck.

"Can I…?" She trailed, unsure of how she would phrase it. Taking a risk, Brennan pressed her lips gently on his perfect mouth, tasting frosty peppermint. Cold, a shivering icy that was addictive. Derek was unmoving, Brennan could anxiously feel the muscle beneath her hands tense.

She faltered, her heart freezing. "I'm sorry." A murmur against his marble-smooth lips.

"No, why-" He didn't finish, unable to continue. Derek was silent for a long time, their mouths still near each others. "Why did you do that?"

Weak anger edged his question. She was ultimately flustered, something she was unused to. "I just…"

He kissed her harshly, so much she forgot what she had in mind. Strong hands graced her waist, the coldness of his skin eliciting a soft sound from her throat. The sensual, slow strokes he caressed on her hips were driving her insane as they moved against one another, her face warming as he glided to her throat. She shivered at the powerful kisses.

Then he suddenly paused. He was unmoving.

"Oh, God-" He sounded shocked, ashamed. His breath tickled her throat, cooling the hot, bruised skin there. Brennan's arms turned rigid, her legs felt like jelly. "-I…I shouldn't be doing this."

She didn't want him to leave. Her nerves were sparking in a frenzy at everything he was doing. "No, no it's fine. Really!" She protested, her hands tucking beneath his jaw so she could look at his eyes. Frigid skin met her trembling palms, pushing so he would look at her, but he was like a statue.

"It's fine." Brennan insisted with a husky voice, determined to keep him with her. His face was buried in the crook of her neck, making it hard for her to get some reassurance. Cerulean eyes half-lidded, the anthropologist tried to raise his face to hers for a kiss, again.

It was impossible. Derek had turned still, but his lips, frozen before, continued their tender massaging at the base of her throat.

She… deserved this, right? A man's touch had been long overdue. Booth -he couldn't be the only one…

No, he couldn't! Angrily, she pushed herself even more into Derek, allowing their clothed bodies to feel what they both were aching for.

Derek suddenly stopped his ministrations. Worried, Brennan was about to ask what was wrong when his lips and tongue started to bruise her.

She winced. "Derek, you're being really harsh." It seemed her complain fell on deaf ears. He continued. About to move from him, teeth caught her skin. She knit her fingers within the wisps of dark curls at his nape.

The sharp teeth teased her skin endlessly. From the arch of her neck to the center of her throat, ending at the collarbone, Derek made her breaths come uneven. Almost reluctantly, Brennan began.

"It's starting to hurt…Stop…"

Without warning, he bit down hard. What the-? She could literally feel his teeth inside her. What was he doing?

"Sto-Stop!" She shrieked, trying to push him off. Panic rushed throughout her veins, fear following instinctively.

Blood was trickling. It was tracing down her neck. This couldn't possibly be happening. Tongue was flicking on her wound, a strange tightness gathering around the bite.

She needed to get him off! It was starting to really hurt.

Alarm bells were ringing in her head to get away. To escape because this wasn't normal. If she could just part from him, but she couldn't. His teeth were dug in her neck- if she even tried to dislodge herself from him…he would take a piece of her with him! She was far too scared for that. The pain was starting to become more pronounced, his tongue still slipping on the blood.

Tears gathered at her eyes, from pain and fear. "Get away." She cried, her arms weakly pushing his upper torso.

And he did.

A ripping sound broke in the air. A second later, a blood-curling scream filled the abyss of silence. Dark eyes met her tearful ones, and her body cowered as she kept screaming until her lungs bled.


When she awoke, there was an almost-dry layer of dark blood caked on her neck. Her hand immediately raised to the sore, throbbing spot right above her jugular with a choked gasp. It felt like ice pricking her skin from the inside, like needles frozen and uncomfortably pinned in her neck. Eyes wide open in tamed fear, Brennan looked to her surroundings for a sign of familiarity. A clean, Victorian-like styled room met her gaze. She lay in a bundle of thick satin bed sheets, cushioned by the mattress beneath her.

The hand before on her bloody neck now was heavily pressed to her forehead. To remember anything, she desperately needed to have some recollection of what had happened. Anxiety was whizzing around her head, strangling her.

I've been abducted. That's the only explanation. Could there be another one? Could there? And I've been…bitten. This bite…it should have killed me. I'm missing so much skin. The blood, it's all over me.

The suspicious expression on her face was becoming incredulous. She should actually be dead. All the blood on her, it was too much. If anything, she should have gone unconscious from the blood loss and never have woken up again. Glancing down at her right hand, she resisted the urge to throw up, because that was honestly what she felt like doing. The blood stained her apparently pale fingers…hands…and -she gave a reluctant look over of her body, but it was clothed, so she raised her shirt up to her chest and her breathing sped up- body.

My skin…it's…

The slow, lengthened thought was burning her, because if s-she let herself think, it would be over. Frustrated, she was frustrated. This just couldn't be right! Temperance Brennan was knowledgeable in all things anthropology. Especially forensic. But her studies had taken many routes beyond just forensic, she knew more than just bones. She knew bodies. Temperance knew things of the dead, of plain simple death.

And that's what she was staring at right now. Pale, sickly pale hands in between the dark blood smeared over her palms and across her fingers. Her breathing was now shallow. This really couldn't be happening. Involuntarily, two shaking fingers pressed against the pulse point just below her jaw.

I'm dreaming. I have to be dreaming. Please, let me be dreaming!

"…" A mad, inhumane cry cluttered at her throat, coming out of her mouth. She stood -unsteady-faced- from the navy-lavished bed to walk directly at the full-figured mirror in the corner of the room. Blood was sliding down her collarbone and gliding beneath her shirt. Auburn curls were tangled in a bed head way, her bangs still oddly straight, however. But the face- the face was unrecognizable.

She shyly skimmed her cheekbones with the tips of her fingers, curious and horrified all at once. "God…" The now fuller lips murmured. She let the other hand rest at her throat, marveling the fine voice that had spoken. Reality was seeming more twisted. This couldn't possibly be happening. Her vivid ruby eyes blinked with fright. "Let this be a nightmare…"

"I'm sorry, but it's not." Brennan whirled around, wary as she let her eyes take in the person. A raven-haired man greeted her vision, bombarding her memory. There was another man behind him, who was examining her with an analytical gaze. She disregarded him, her angry eyes more focused on the one who spoke. The one who bit her.

Derek's bright eyes regarded her physical state with worry.

"You!" She accused with a scarlet finger, distraught. "You did this to me." Brennan fought the urge to approach the man and attack mercilessly.

The other one spoke in a whisper, but she could still hear him. "Be careful, Derek. She is dangerous." Derek pressed his lips together, anxious. "It's fine, Dylan."

Derek then returned his attention to her and nodded, transfixed with her enraged face. She glared at his response. Who was he? A name meant nothing to her. She wanted to know why he did this -whatever this was- to her.

"I'm so sorry." He came closer, smoldering those crystal clear eyes at her. An apology? That was all?

"Derek, what did you do to me?" She asked, her throat painfully parched. She swallowed and ignored it. There was a larger matter at hand. For the first time in her life, she was truly and deeply scared she was facing something…unknown to her.

Her being pent with fear, she ran. She ran away to the one person she could always trust.


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