She walked down the hall to the linen closet to get a towel for her shower. She opened the door, and heard something creak overhead. She looked up, craning her neck. She moved to under the pull for the attic steps and stepped back as she brought the string down.
A rotting corpse dropped to her floor, the skin eaten away, flies swarming around it. There was blood coating what was still there. A few bugs were crawling around it.
She screamed and then smelled it. She'd smelled a lot of bad things, but this – this wasn't describable. The rotting flesh and her fear overwhelmed her, and she dashed to her bathroom, throwing up her baked potato and chicken salad.
"Hey, Bones," said Booth. He was knocking on her door at a little past ten that night. "Bones!"
He heard the lock turning inside, and the door opened to reveal Bones standing in a silk robe. Her hair was ruffled and this way and that.
"I was asleep, Booth," she said.
"I can tell," he said. "Nice bed head. We've got a murder to solve. Come on, get dressed, and let's go."
When she was ready, they got into Booth's black SUV, and he started driving. They talked mildly during the drive, and then Booth pulled up to a small white house with all the lights on. Two cop cars were sitting in the driveway along with a 1967 Mustang.
"Oh, now that is a car," said Booth as they went inside.
There was a young woman who couldn't be more than twenty sitting on the couch, clutching a pink bear in her hands with wide eyes. She was rocking back and forth, and seemed to be muttering something under her breath. Three cops were standing around the room.
She looked up at them as they entered.
"I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth, and this is Dr. Temperance Brennan," said Booth. "You?"
"Chase Archer," she said.
"She looks horrible," said Dr. Brennan.
She meant the dark shadows under Chases's dark blue eyes. Brennan meant the lank look to her black hair. And Bones meant the sickly tint to her skin. The black tank top she wore was slightly worn looking.
"The remains are this way," said one of the police officers.
The two were led back through the house until they came upon the crime scene tape. They passed under it and Brennan knelt by the corpse.
"No wonder she's upset," said Booth, covering his nose with a handkerchief. Bones pulled on some rubber gloves and went about inspecting the remains. She pulled away a necklace with a little blue mushroom hanging from it.
"See if she recognizes it," said Brennan, handing it to Booth. He took with pinched, gloved fingers.
He went out to her and knelt in front of her. The muttering stopped, and he noticed how she titled her left wrist out of view.
"Do you recognize this?" he asked, showing her the necklace.
"Oh, God," she whispered and ran to her phone. She punched in a number, hurriedly, and put the phone to her ear, bouncing on her toes. "Pick up, pick up, please."
When she got the answering machine, and put the phone back in its cradle, she sunk to her knees.
"That's Autumn's," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "She always wears that thing."
"Thank you," said Booth. He put a hand on her shoulder, and she looked away, tears falling from her eyes. She shut them in hopes of keeping them from betraying her. But they did, and Booth saw.
"Why would anyone kill Autumn?" she asked, looking up at Booth. "Why?"
"Can you think of anyone that might not have liked Autumn?" Booth asked, helping her up.
"Mrs. – God, what was her name? Oh yeah. Um, Mrs. Hampton," said Chase. "She hated Autumn and I. She was our eighth grade English teacher, but I haven't seen her since that last day of eighth grade, and that was in California.
"My dad didn't like her that much, but I haven't seen him since my parents got divorced," she went on. "And there was also Steven."
"Who's that?" asked Booth.
"Her ex-boyfriend. Or the last one I knew she had," said Chase, wiping away smeared eyeliner and tears. She sucked in a deep breath and went on. "He was possessive of Autumn, and he wanted me gone. He thought I was a bad influence. Hey, I wasn't the bad influence there. I helped Autumn through her classes through high school."
"So her ex," said Booth. "Did he ever follow you or Autumn around?"
"Autumn a lot," she said. "A lot."
"Hey, Booth, I'm done with the remains. It can all go back to the Jeffersonian," said Brennan walking to them and pulling off the blue gloves she wore.
"Pack it up!" said Booth. He turned to Chase and handed her a card. "Call me if you can think of anything else. We might also have some more questions for you."
Chase nodded and tightened her pale fist around the card. "Thanks."
"We'll catch the guy who did this, don't worry," said Booth.
She nodded again, and the cops packed up as Booth and Brennan took the remains to the Jeffersonian. Chase slid down to the floor again, sobbing and clutching her body.
When Zack slid his card through the scanner and climbed the stairs with Hodgins the next morning, he did not expect to see a living person lying on their examination table with a stuffed penguin under her head and a security coat over her body.
"What should we do?" he asked Hodgins.
"Wake her?" Hodgins responded.
The woman screamed and sat up, the coat falling away. She pulled her knees to her chest, rubbing her eyes and pressing her forehead to her knees.
"God," she whispered.
"Uh, Miss, why are you here?" asked Hodgins.
"This is where a person would say 'Oh my, God,'" said Zack. He stepped forward, his lips pressed and brow furled. His hand was outstretched towards Chase.
"Uh, hi," she said, shaking his hand. "Who are you?"
"Zack Addy, Dr. Brennan's grad student," he answered. "You're Chase Archer. It's an honor."
"Yeah, I know who I am," she said, sliding off the table.
"Why are you here?" asked Hodgins again.
"Oh, I couldn't sleep last night and I came here," said Chase, running a hand through her crazy hair and picking up her penguin. "The security guard on duty let me sleep here. Those are quite comfortable. But cold. I'd suggest sleeping on one if you had a lumbar problem or rods in your back."
"I will remember that," said Zack. "You have two doctorates, correct?"
"Yeah, one in sociology and the other in applied engineering," she said.
"I'm getting one in applied engineering," said Zack.
"Keep working," she said. She yawned and stretched.
Zack was watching her with great interest, observing how she moved and what she did to pop muscles that needed adjusted and bones that were slightly out of place. But he noticed how she kept her left wrist from their view.
"What's wrong with your left wrist?" he asked.
"What? Nothing," she responded quickly, straightening up and smacking her back on the table. "Ow shit. Ow. Ah!"
"Are you okay?" asked Zach as he and Hodgins moved forward to help her. Zack bent down and saw a bleeding cut on her back. "You delivered enough pressure to your lower back and caused it to open an old wound, it appears."
"Oh, yeah, the spot where I had surgery a few years back," she said, grunting and wincing. Hodgins was letting her squeeze his hand.
"Why'd you have surgery?" he asked as Zack went through drawers to look for some bandages.
"I had seriously messed up my back," said Chase. "It came from years of bending over text books, just doing math problems, over and over again."
Zack came back momentarily with some white bandages. He applied them over her cut and pressed down on the adhesive part of the bandages.
"Thanks," she said. "I keep getting hurt as of late. It's not fun. Nor does it help heal old scars."
"What do you mean?" asked Zack.
Chase sighed and looked up as more beeping commenced from the steps to the area. Dr. Brennan and Booth were walking towards them.
"What are you doing here?" he asked.
"I couldn't stay there," she said, wrapping her arms around herself. "Not after finding Autumn. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her. She was there! She was asking for help and I couldn't help her! My dad was back, and he kept me away from her! And it was my fault! He said this would happen! He said as soon as he found out about Autumn and I that I would lose her and it would be my fault. He was right. It is my fault." She was crying hysterically.
Brennan shared a look with the other two scientists, and they led Chase away. Booth and Brennan had the remains brought up.
"She doesn't act like Zack in the slightest," said Brennan. "She doesn't act like her IQ is a point higher than his."
"She's been through a lot," said Booth. "She lost her best friend, and from what she was saying, girlfriend. She also had a rough childhood. I looked her up last night. She looked familiar. Chase Archer had an abusive father. Her dad started hitting her when she was seven. It went downhill from there. He was verbally, mentally and physically abusive. She has problems with death and betrayal. She doesn't get close to people anymore. Hasn't since the last set of friends she made in eighth grade. When she met Autumn."
"But she should know that past memories are irrational and don't play into the matter at hand," said Brennan.
"You don't forget – or push aside – something like that, Bones," said Booth.
***
"I did a facial reconstruction on the skull," said Angela. Chase was sitting on the floor, watching as the team worked. She held up a picture.
"Autumn," said Chase. She reached up and pulled the picture from Angela's hand. She stared at the print out. Autumn's face stared out at her. Her face shape was perfect – rounded on the cheeks and coming to a perfect point on her chin. The lips were the correct size, wide and plump. "Only way it could be perfect was if you lightened the hair color and added blonde highlights."
She handed the picture to Booth and stood up, straightening her shirt.
"I need to go home and change," she said. "But I really don't want to."
"I'll go with you," said Zack immediately.
"What?" said Brennan and Chase together.
"I'll go," he said again. "I want to take her home."
"I don't mind," said Chase. "As long as there isn't something you need him for."
"No, go ahead," said Brennan.
"Thank you," he said, smiling.
Zack and Chase walked off, Chase holding the penguin in her arms. They left the Jeffersonian and got into Chase's car. She started the car and backed out of her spot. She and Zack spoke of her throughout the ride.
"Why don't you want to go home?" he asked.
"Bad memories stay with me more often than good memories," she said. "I just can't believe someone would kill Autumn. She is – was – so likable."
"You should just block the memories," said Zack.
"I wish I could," said Chase as she pulled into her driveway. "I really wish I could."
"What do you mean?" he asked, but Chase was already out of the car, walking to her front door through the fallen leaves.
Chase ignored him as she unlocked the door and opened it. She pushed the door open and stood there as Zack walked in. Chase forced herself in as Zack bent down by her bookcase, filled with the books she had written about the macabre, death and damnation – the alienation felt by a Gothic, depressed genius – or whatever dark thoughts entered her head as she sat there, frustrated with being unable to decide upon how to best keep what she thought and remembered at bay.
"You're work," he said, grabbing his favorite, Sleeping Alone Forever. "This one's exceptionally impressive with the mentions of French burials and what the idea of setting yourself up to rot for eternity in one of the catacombs under the city streets of Paris was like. It was amazing."
"Thank you," she said. "I wrote that when I was fifteen, my last few months of high school, I think. The timeline gets messed up in my head. Don't remember time very well. But you probably know that."
"Are you working on anything else?" he asked. He put the book back and grabbed another.
"That one was Autumn's favorite. I had a lesbian couple in because of what she was like. That one's largely about the death of gays because no accepts them in this world," she said. "But, yeah, I am. I'm not certain about it yet, but I went with the undead for this one. Vampires and zombies. Monsters. I think they represent our demons that we have inside of us."
"They're not real," he said.
"I know," said Chase, walking to her room. Zack stood up and followed after her. "But they sell really well. Hardly anyone thinks like we do, Zack. We're . . . special."
"It didn't do much good in high school," he said.
"High school should be the definition of hell," she said darkly, tossing the penguin on her bed.
Her room was painted dark purple with images of death hanging on the walls. The ceiling had an accurate portrayal of the Milky Way galaxy painted on it. A desk and a laptop were in the corner, under a window draped heavily in black curtains. A bookshelf and crates full of notebooks littered the room.
She sunk onto her bed, looking up at Zack. "High school wasn't our friend. High school was where we stuck out. We are smarter than our teachers. We have better jobs than any of the jocks that are there, and we're better, Zack. It doesn't matter what they think us, but we're better. Unfortunately, I'm still trying to prove that to myself."
"You are better!" he insisted. "Really."
"I know you think highly of me," she said. "But you shouldn't. There's a lot about me that's not seen in a very positive light. Get my medical record sometime. You'll see what I mean."
Chase grabbed some clothes out of her closet.
"Stay here while I shower, okay? And if anyone comes a-knocking, just ignore them. Unless it's Booth or Dr. Brennan or you know them. Uh, and if the phone rings, just ignore it," she said. "My editor can deal with not hearing my voice for thirty minutes."
Zack nodded vigorously. Chase gave him a little smile and then turned on her heel, walking to the bathroom.
"Hey, wait, Zack?" she called.
"Yeah?" he asked, walking towards her voice.
"Can you get me two towels?" she asked, pointing to the end of the hall, near the linen closet, near where she found Autumn.
"Yeah," he said and went down the hall. "This fear is irrational, though."
"Yeah, I know," she said. "I figured that out a while ago. Just . . . emotions aren't easy for me to push away. That worked for so long, and now it doesn't." She took the towels from Zack. "Thanks."
She stepped into the bathroom and shut the door while Zack walked back to her bedroom. As he sat on her bed, loud, angry metal came from the bathroom. He jumped, surprised to hear it. The "singer" was screaming out the lyrics with so little enunciation that he couldn't be understood.
But he heard the water start up and the curtain slide across the metal bar, anyway. He picked up the copy of Bat Hearts and Puppy-Dog Tails from her bedside table and started reading it. As he got into chapter two, he heard a piercing scream and the music stopped.
"Zack!" came the panicked scream of Chase. "It's blood!"
Zack dropped the book and ran to her, fumbling with the knob as he opened the door. When he got it open, Chase was standing on a bathmat, covered in a towel that barely covered what needed to be. And there were so many scars on her, so many marks that hadn't faded from her back and arms and legs.
He looked at the water coming from the shower. The only blood was on her counter with two razor blades. One had fresh blood and the other had a few flecks of dried blood on it.
"There's no blood from the shower," he said. "Just there. Why's that there? Why are there so many scars on you?"
"Not now, okay? Just, just don't leave," she said, taking his hand. "It goes away when you're here."
"That's a sense of safety you feel around me," he explained.
"I know that," she said. She paused for a long time, trying to form the right thoughts. "Get in the shower with me."
"That can't serve a real purpose," he said.
"Yes it does," she said. "I'm not afraid with you. And I don't want to be afraid. I hate it. I hate being vulnerable. Bad things happen then. And I'm sure that's how Autumn died – was killed."
"Fine," he said.
He pulled off his wine-colored t-shirt and then the long-sleeved, gray shirt under that. He undid his belt and slipped off his jeans, then his underwear. He was pulling off his shoes and socks as Chase dropped the towel. She stepped into the shower, and Zack followed her, amazed that his sexual fantasy was happening. And he rarely had sexual fantasies.
"Shit," said Chase, sitting up. It was roughly ten o'clock, and she still needed to pump herself with some medicine. "Shit."
"What's wrong?" asked Zack from next to her. She jumped and fell from the bed, grabbing onto his arm with her left hand. "Why are there cuts of varying depth on your wrist?"
Chase was hurriedly dressing and brushing her hair and loading her pockets.
"Chase!" he said, running after her as she dashed out the door, grabbing something from the edge of her desk.
She was running out the bathroom with something as she was pulling on a coat and grabbing her car keys.
"That was fun," she called over her shoulder. "And I'm sorry."
She shoved Zack into a closet and heard him groan as everything toppled onto him. She opened the door to see him unconscious. She knelt beside him, felt his pulse, double-checking her calculations of what she had done and kissed his cheek. She went back to her room and packed everything. She loaded up her car and then left a note for Zack in his hand. She put the penguin in his arms and kissed him again.
"I'm really sorry," she said again.