Okay I know there are tonnes of these out there but I just had this idea and decided to put it to paper. This is Hodgins POV just before him and Bren try and blow themselves out of the ground.
Enjoy :)
I needed to think. I desperately needed to think. I needed to think in order to breathe. In order to live. But where do you start thinking? Which of the corners containing the many wonders of science do you begin with? When the world, the earth, has literally got you in it's grasp, trying to squeeze every last breath out of you, how can the human mind comprehend what and where to start thinking; when the chances of survival are shrinking ever so quickly? Shouldn't we spend our last moments with happy, joyous thoughts, rather than with particulates and scientific formulas buzzing around inside your head.
Letting the scientific barriers of my nature get knocked down by emotions so deep they hit arteries, I am flooded with over-whelming images and memories. I've heard that just before you die, you don't feel any pain anymore and you relive the happiest moments of your life. So, I mustn't be about to slip over the edge of the bridge of death and pummel down through the never ending blackness of the afterlife. This cannot be true. Because my pain has most definitely not gone away. It's still sending stab after stab of pain through my body; more specifically my shins. The other reason I know I am not on the brink of death, as the images that are picking painfully at my heart, bit by bit, is the fact these images are not my life flashing before my eyes. If it were, I would probably see my parents and momentous times of my childhood and youth. I would see my first crush, first kiss, first girlfriend, the first time – well, I don't need to go into that. I'd see the fun times and experiments I'd done with my best friend Zack, and times with Cam, Dr B and Booth. But I did not see one of those things. I saw the only thing in the world I know is certain. I saw the only thing I believe is truly right; and it wasn't bugs, slime or – dirt.
It was Angela. Every bit of her; the good, the bad, the wonderful. Angela Pearly-Gates Montenegro; every single moment I had spent with her. Every single case, every single lat night coffee. Every single touch. Every single kiss; though we had only shared one. But, oh, I didn't realise until this moment how much I want there to be many, many more. A lifetime's worth. But the odds of getting them were stretching very thin, far too thin for my liking.
In my opinion, we have no hope. Dr B and I may as well give up now. Sure, we'd gotten out – hopefully – the clues that would lead to our coordinates, but who knows whether or not anyone will depict what they mean. And I cannot think of anything else that will work. The vast majority of science where the answer may lay, is far too large to sift through in the short time we have left. And it's hard to think about science right now, as visions of Angela and her beauty blur my vision with tears and the little air we are left with compresses on my lungs.
Dr B's plan of blowing us out, will more likely result in our deaths, but as the little black stars impending my vision show me, this is our last chance, and if we want any chance of seeing our loved ones and daylight again, we must take this one, last, chance.
In conclusion, I, Jack Stanley Hodgins, am signing out.
Hope you liked and please leave a review for me :)