Dear Readers: I wrote this story before the Season Five finale. So, in this story (major spoilers right
here), Brennan has not gone to Maluku, Booth has never considered to go to Afghanistan, and Angela
and Hodgins have not only not gone to Paris, Angela is not pregnant. Thanks for your understanding
and I hope you enjoy :)
No More Good Days
October 6 6:55 AM
I've never admitted this to Booth, but I do not enjoy the days where there is not a murder to solve. Also
ancient remains remain my true passion, identifying World War One victims every day does get a little
tedious. As I sit in my roll-y chair typing at my computer, I keep glancing at my door, almost hoping that
Booth will just burst into my office like he always does, and announce that there's a murder case, and I
will run out and help him. But that's unlikely to happen, seeing as that was a murder just yesterday.
It's 6:50 in the morning. Dr. Saroyan hasn't arrived yet. I bet she was still sleeping. I try to focus back on
my work, but I feel like I'm going to fall asleep on the table. Maybe I'd be more focused if I got up, and
walked around a little.
I stand up. I decide I want to talk to Hodgins. After looking around for him, I find him staring into his
microscope. He loves that thing almost as much as I love Bo-bones.
"Hodgins, we don't have a case. What are you doing?"
"Well, Dr. Brennan, you have things you do in your free time, and I have mine." Hodgins looks up from
his microscope.
"I don't believe you." Booth has taught me a lot.
Hodgins smiles. "Well...I had a bet with Colin."
I smile, and go back to my office. I hope that when I come back, Booth will be waiting for me. He isn't,
but instead, Angela is sitting on the couch.
"Hey, sweetie. Can I ask you something?"
"As long as it has nothing to do with boyfriends, Hodgins, or sex."
Ange smiles. "What about a sub-conscious feeling that something bad is about to happen?"
I sit down. "What is it, Angela?"
"Well, I visited my psychic today, you know, Avalon Harmonia, and she said it. She said something bad
will happen."
"Ange, you know I do not believe in psychics."
"Okay, well, I do. And I'm not saying duck and cover, I'm just saying, watch your back."
"Okay. Whatever, Angela." I smile and stand up. I walk over to my desk and begin typing. Angela leaves.
The second she closes the door, I stand up and walk over to my couch and lay down. I close my eyes and
fall asleep.
I dream that I'm in a club with Angela. Or at least I think it's Angela—my dream isn't that clear. Then
something happens...Angela is right. Angela is right. What I see is clear as day.
I'm in a room, a bedroom. The place seems familiar...There's a dim glow from a small lamp on the
bedside table. I'm lying in the bed, the blankets covering my naked body. Suddenly the lamp turns off,
and I hear the rustling of the blankets. The figure I see above me is so familiar, and yet I can't place who
it is...who was it? Who was it? It's a male figure, and he climbs into the bed, under the blankets, and I
feel that he is naked too.
"Do you love me?" he whispers in a soft voice.
"Yes," I hear myself reply. And he rolls on top of me...
My dream ends abruptly. I hear screaming, alarms blaring. Guards are running all over the place.
Angela was right.
Chaos
October 6, 7:03 AM
I rush out of the room and I see chaos on the platform. People are limping around to help people who
have fallen. Others are unmoving, lying in puddles of their own blood. I almost feel out of place, not
being injured at all. As my initial shock fades away, I begin to run, helping people. I see a curled up figure
at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the platform. Hodgins! I flip him over, to see many cuts and
bruises on his arms and legs, and a bloody gash just over his left eye.
I see Angela run up next to me, and she tries to help Hodgins become conscious again. She looks up
and my, tears in her eyes. There's a long, bloody scratch going from below her eye to her jawline. She
doesn't have to say anything for me to know what she means. I run off, trying to help other people
in the accident. I run outside to see fire, cars crashed, buildings collapsed. This is bigger than the
Jeffersonian. And if I'm correct, this is bigger than Washington DC. I run out through the garden and
out through the street. The air is thick with smoke, filling my lungs. Cars lay flipped all along the street.
Screams fill the ear. I get dizzy. I see a car flipped over, and I ran over to see Dr. Saroyan in the car. I try
to pull her out. She's covered in blood.
"They lied to...me..." Her words are slurred and quiet.
"C'mon, Cam, don't talk." I lay her down to rest. "Don't worry, everyone! I'm a doctor!" I come around
to help as many people as possible.
Home Sweet Home
October 6 10:00 PM
When I finally get home, I fall down on the couch. I had been helping people for fifteen hours and
people are still dying. Cam got hit by a car, Hodgins fell down a flight of stairs, Angela got hit by the
corner of her desk, and here I am without a scratch.
The sight that I saw when I went outside the Jeffersonian is burned into my brain. The sky, coated in
smoke. Every building damaged. The air filled with cries and screams.
I get up and wash off my hands in the kitchen sink. They're bloody and scratched up. From shrapnel,
probably. After bandaging them up, my phone blew up, vibrating. Booth has texted me.
Reflecting pool, 9:00 AM 2morrow.
I reply saying I'll be there and use my last bits of energy to make my way to my bed and fall asleep.
My dreams are mostly about dead bodies and crumpled cars.
Booth...
Booth...
It can't be...Booth...