Missing You
Disclaimer: I do not own Dr. Temperance Brennan, Agent Seeley Booth (if only I did, phwoar) or any of the other characters mentioned in this story, apart from George and Stuart Johnson. They belong to Kathy Reichs, Fox, and the creators of the show Bones. The plot, however, is all mine.
The first thing that Dr. Temperance Brennan realized was that she had a splitting headache. It felt as if a speeding train was ramming repeatedly into the right side of her skull. What on earth, she thought, is going on? She tried to open her eyes to look at where she was, but the pain was excruciating. She let out a small whimper then took a deep breath. She tried to relax and think back to the last thing she remembered.
She'd been apprehending a suspect with Booth. Or maybe attempting to apprehend a suspect would be a better choice of words. The moment George Johnson caught sight of them, he had fled. Booth took off after him, yelling at her to stay where she was. She was never one to listen to such orders, and was about to follow after him, but she heard a noise behind her. Before she could turn, something heavy collided with her head, and the next she remembered was waking up here…wherever here was.
Brennan forced her eyes open to look at her surroundings. There was nothing to indicate where she was. No furniture was to be seen in the room and there were no windows. For all she knew, she could be below ground. She made an attempt to move her arms and legs, but her wrists and ankles had been bound to the table on which she was laying. As she struggled, she heard a low chuckle.
She turned her head toward the door and saw a dark shadow move toward her.
After a bit of a chase, Booth finally was able to catch up to the suspect and apprehend him. He led him back to the car where he had left Bones. He was honestly surprised that she hadn't joined in the chase. Maybe she's starting to respect my decisions, he thought to himself. Upon return to the car, however, she was nowhere to be seen. "What the hell?" Booth murmured aloud. He put the suspect in the back of the car, locked the door, and called her name. This lasted for a few minutes, with no answer, before Booth spotted something shiny and red on the grass. He moved closer.
"Blood," he said. "Shit!"
Booth called for backup and forensics to come to the scene and process evidence. He waited while they worked, hoping a clue would surface that would lead him to Bones. Nothing. The other FBI agents told him that he was doing no good here, to take his suspect in for questioning. With a large sigh and a heavy heart, Booth set out for headquarters. He questioned Johnson, who broke down and confessed everything. Officers arrested him and Booth was left alone with his thoughts. He blamed himself. He'd left her alone and unprotected. If anything happened to her, he'd never be able to forgive himself. As he was brooding, he realized that the squints probably didn't know what had happened. He set out for the Jeffersonian to break the news.
When he got to the Institute, the others automatically knew that something was wrong. For one thing, he was alone. For another, the despair was evident on his face. Angela was the first to walk up to him.
"What is it, Booth? What's wrong?"
"She's gone. We were at the scene, the suspect ran, and I chased him. When I got back, she wasn't there. All that was left was her blood on the ground."
Angela threw her hand over her mouth. Hodgin's came and put his hand on her shoulder, while Zack collapsed in his chair.
"What are we going to do?" Hodgin's asked. "There was no other evidence? How are we going to find her?"
"The FBI is looking into it. They'll find her. They have to," Booth replied.
At that moment, another FBI agent came running into the lab.
"Agent Booth!" he called. "This just came through for you!" He handed a piece of paper to Booth. "It's about Dr. Brennan."
Brennan looked at the man who loomed over her. He looked familiar, although with her brain scrambled the way it was, she wasn't sure why. It wasn't until he spoke that she realized who he was.
"Why Dr. Brennan, I see that you're finally awake. I was starting to worry that I'd hit you too hard."
"Stuart Johnson. I'd recognize you anywhere. Why'd you do it? We cleared you of the murder. Your father did it," Brennan tried to reason with her captor.
"Well, I realize that. But what you don't seem to understand is that my father is the main supporter of my meat-packing plant. But he and I don't exactly see eye to eye. And if he goes down for this murder, I'm sure that he won't leave his share of the business to me. So, you see, I had to take some action," he replied.
"I don't understand what you're saying here."
"Really, Dr. Brennan. I thought that someone of your intelligence would be able to figure this out quickly. I need my father to be cleared of all charges to keep my business. You're just the ticket. I'm going to use you to negotiate for my father's freedom. I've already sent your friends at the FBI a ransom note," Johnson sneered.
Brennan just stared incredulously at the man before her. Did he seriously think this would work? The guy obviously had some issues if he thought so.
"This'll never work," she told him. "Booth won't-"
"Be quiet or you'll be sorry! I'm warning you!"
Never one to be told what to do, she started again. "Booth will never let you-"
She saw Johnson pull a gun out of the waist band of his jeans. At first she thought he was going to shoot her, but then she reasoned that her being dead would not help his plan come to fruition. She worked through all of this in the few seconds it took Johnson to free his gun and bring the butt of it sharply in contact with her skull. The world around her turned black once again.
Back at the Jeffersonian, Hodgins, Angela, and Zack were clustered around the piece of paper which Booth clutched in his hands. It was a ransom note. It said that Brennan was okay for now, but to keep it that way they would have to follow certain instructions, which would come in another note.
"Thank goodness she's okay," Angela said with a sigh of relief.
Booth had a smirk on his face and everyone was staring at him. He looked at their faces, all showing concern for his sanity.
"We've got the bastard."
"What do you mean? How can you get that from just a note?" Zack asked.
"You seriously don't see it?" Booth questioned incredulously. "The idiot faxed this note. His number's on the page. We track the number, and we've got him."
The room filled with cheers. Thank goodness Booth thought to himself. I don't know what I'd do if I lost her.
The FBI had been able to track the fax easily; the guy was obviously a first-timer. The fax number belonged to a local meat-packing facility owned by Stuart Johnson. Once they had a name, the location came easily and a rescue team was formed with Booth at the helm. They set out, speeding through the city, until they came to the warehouse. Agents piled out of the vehicles and awaited their orders.
"Okay," Booth said. "Here's the plan. We enter the building quietly so we don't spook this guy and make him hurt Bones. Split up and check every room. If you find her, get in there and save her unless you can see that it'd be too dangerous. If that's the case, call for backup."
Everyone nodded and set off into the building. It was three stories, so they split into three groups. Booth's group took the basement. Each room down there had a steel door with a small window in it. The agents crept from door to door, peeking through the windows for any sign of life. Finally, in a room near the end of a long corridor, Booth heard a scuffling noise and saw movement through the window. He peered in and saw a man looming over a motionless body which was tied to a table.
"Bones," he whispered.
"Alright team, this is it," he said, turning to his team. "Try to take him alive. It looks like he has a gun, so keep your weapons at the ready."
Booth took a step forward and slowly, carefully, he turned the door knob. The door began to slowly open and the hinges, rusty from years of being ignored, creaked a little. Johnson spun as he heard the noise, his gun pointing toward the door, and fired a shot which just barely missed Booth's ear. Booth fired back, aiming at his suspect's leg in order to incapacitate but not kill him. Johnson dropped his gun and fell to the floor, writhing in pain, as FBI agents swarmed him to take him into custody.
Booth ran toward Brennan. She was unconscious and had large bruises on her head from where Johnson had hit her. He untied her hands and feet and gingerly lifted her into his arms. He followed the other agents into the hall and up and out of the building.
The jostling movement of Booth's walk eventually roused Brennan. She took a deep breath and smiled. She'd recognize that scent anywhere.
"Hey, Booth," she said, a smile in her voice.
"Hey yourself, Bones. You gave me quite a scare back there. I wasn't sure if you were going to wake up."
Booth fell silent and closed his eyes to collect himself. When he spoke again, his voice was shaking.
"I'm so sorry, Bones. This was entirely my fault. If I hadn't left you alone and unprotected, you wouldn't be here. I'll never let this happen again."
Brennan raised a hand to his face. "It wasn't your fault, Booth. You did what you had to do. It's one of the reasons I…love you so much. I love you Booth."
"I love you too, Bones," Booth said. Smiling, he bent his head and he kissed her. Pulling away, he said "Now you need to rest. Let's get you out of here."
He carried her toward the car and they drove away, happier that either had been in a long time, both amazed that so much joy had arisen from such a terrifying ordeal.
The End
A/N: Thanks for reading this. It's my first ever fanfic, and I'm nowhere near perfect, but I thought I'd share. Reviews would be appreciated and positive and negative feedback will be greatly appreciated.