Title: Never Again

Author: Chickiee-Dee aka Alyce.

Rating: M for subject matter.

Disclaimer: I don't own them…If I did, I'd be able to pay my rent.

Summary: It's never going to happen again. Not to me. Not if I can do something about it. Brennan POV

Authors Notes: Ok, so this is my first Bones fic…so forgive me if it's a little OOC. And if it makes no sense, it's just 'cause I'm in the middle of final assessments for Uni, and my brains are fried.

This fic is set before the Pilot when Brennan is a teenager. I was watching over the first season and was curious as to why she studied martial arts etc. Ergo, I came up with this explanation.

Also please note, this fic contains some mildly graphic scenes contain non-consensual sex, if this offends you in anyway, I wouldn't recommend reading it. You have been warned.

Never Again

Tapping my pen on the table I await the bell, which will signal the end of the day. I look around briefly and can see my other classmates still furiously writing at their desks, and I turn back to my test. All the answers are completed to perfection, and now I have to wait for the end of the day before I can leave the stuffy room. Goosebumps rise on my arms as the cool breeze from outside whips in through the window, which was left slightly ajar. The day, which started out so hot, had done a complete 180 and now a frigid breeze was hanging in the air, along with the distinct smell of moisture. The bell finally rang and I stood up from my seat at the front of the classroom, gathering my books and depositing my test on the teachers table on my way out. Stopping by my locker I shove the rest of my homework into my horribly small bag and weave through the crowd of people, making my way outside, where I'm greeted by a darkened sky and the distant rumble of thunder. I walk quickly the cold enveloping me, my gangly legs, exposed to the freezing air, my tiny arms clutching my books tightly to my chest. I'm acutely aware of people's whispers as I walk up the road, away from school. They all know I'm a foster kid. If it wasn't for the lingering smell of garbage bags, then maybe I could be like everyone else. All the normal kids get a kick out of it, apparently its fun to pick on people like me. And its not just them, my foster brothers and sisters are all the same. It's like I don't get to belong anywhere anymore. I suppose that it's true, Mum and Dad left…so did Russ, maybe there's something wrong with me?

By the time I get back to the O'Daley's house it's pouring with rain, and the edges of my books are curling over on themselves. My oversized shorts are clinging to my legs and my shoes squish with every step. I climb up the stairs towards the front door and turn the knob, eager to get inside and dry off. The door falls open and I step inside, dropping my books on the floor so I can take off my wet shoes and leave them to dry. Leaving my shoes by the door I follow the hall down to where my room is located. My bedroom, if you could really call it that, it's more of a cupboard, is down the far end of the house, next to the laundry, and is virtually empty save for the single bed in one corner, and the small chest of drawers that stands next to it. I've been here almost a month. That's a record for me, ever since I was placed in the system I haven't been in one family for longer than three weeks. At sixteen apparently I'm too difficult to handle, so I get shifted from place to place quicker than most of the younger kids. I spread my homework across the floor, hoping it will dry enough so I can work on it later tonight. Grabbing the towel off the back of my door I dig through my drawers looking for something to change into, and I head upstairs to take a quick shower.

I flip over in bed, trying in vain to get some sleep, but all I can do is stare at the silhouettes on the wall, the shadows dancing in time with the trees which are swaying in the breeze. My door opens and I clamp my eyes shut, feigning sleep. I can hear the soft footsteps on the floor as someone approaches my bed. Confused, I open my eyes and am shocked to see Mr. O'Daley standing over me. I open my mouth to say something but his hand covers my mouth. "Don't say a word Temperance." I nod my head against his hand, and he moves it away. He pulls back the covers and climbs on top of me, sliding his hand under my scrappy t-shirt, grabbing my breast. I'm not stupid, I know what he's doing in wrong, and I have a fair idea of where this all might lead too, but I'm still shocked when his lips cover mine, his tongue forcing my lips open as he positions himself completely on top of me, rubbing his body along mine. I try to fight back but he grabs my arms and pins me down. I shift as much as is possible given that he's using the majority of his weight to hold me down. Taking his hand off my breast, he drags his pants down, taking one of my arms and making me stroke him. The tears begin to spill over, and I take my arm away, intent on using it to free myself from his grip. No such luck, I feel his fist collide with my jaw, and he issues a stern warning for me to do what I'm told. He goes back to fondling me, but this time his hand slides into my shorts and into my underwear, touching my most private areas. I clamp my legs together tighter, hoping to deter him. It doesn't work and I feel his fist collide with my head, and then my world goes black.

I wake up in terrible pain, blood soaking my sheets and I know in my heart he didn't stop when I was unconscious. My head aches as I stand up and I stumble into the hall, carefully slipping a jumper over my battered body. I sneak out the front door, closing it quietly as I swerve up the street, the pain so intense that I can't walk straight. I'm not sure how long it takes until the hospital comes into view, but I can see the sun beginning to rise on the horizon. I collapse through the front door, unable to bear the pain any longer, and as I fall I can hear people yelling in the background. I wake up only minutes later, still disoriented, and the first thing I notice is a man standing over me. The survival mechanism in my brain kicks in and I scream. A parade of nurses come running in, rushing over to me, while the man stands back, confusion etched on his face. "Can you tell us what happened?" one of the ladies asked.

"I think I was raped," I said quietly, my voice barely audible, "He knocked me unconscious…and when I woke up…there was blood…I don't know what happened." The tears were falling now and I tried to curl myself up in a ball, rocking myself back and forth as I cried. "Can you tell us your name?"

"Temperance…Temperance Brennan."

"Is there anyone we can call?" I shook my head, "Ok, I'm just going to make a quick call and I'll be back. Ok?" I nodded through my tears and watched as she left the room.

A short time later she came back, two people in suits trailing behind her. "Temperance, this is Detectives Peters and Helner. They want to ask you a few questions, is that ok?" I nodded and they approached the bed. "Temperance, can you tell us what happened?" I paused for a minute, trying to process in my head what had happened before I could even begin to articulate it. "I was in bed. I couldn't sleep…he came into my room…he climbed on top of me and pinned me down. He was…touching me…and I fought back. He hit me…and everything went black. I don't know what happened after that…" more tears slide down my cheeks and Detective Helner reaches out a comforting hand. "This important…can you tell us who it was?" I nod.

"Trevor…Trevor O'Daley. He's my foster father."

"Thank you Temperance." I watch as the Detectives leave and the nurse comes over.

"There's a Doctor waiting outside, she wants to do a quick exam. Is it ok if I bring her in?"

"Will you stay with me?" I ask in a voice I don't even recognize. I'm not sure why, but I trust this woman, there's something in her eyes. "Of course."

"Then it's ok." She goes over to the door and gestures to someone outside. Another woman, an older one this time, comes in, a chart in her hand. "My name is Doctor Jessup. I'm just going to do a quick exam, and then with your permission I'd like to do a rape kit."

"Ok." I verbalise my approval and she approaches the bed.

"How old are you Temperance?"

"I'm sixteen." I zone out as she examines me, cleaning the dried blood around the wound on my head. I shift in the bed uncomfortably as Dr. Jessup collects samples for the rape kit. She's finished in a matter of minutes. "Temperance I'm going to send you for a CT to make sure there's no major problems resulting from your head injury. Then I'll be able to get a clearer picture of when you can go home." Hearing that word I start shaking. Home. I don't have one. Not since Mum and Dad went missing.

My stuff arrived later that day, all bundled up in my garbage bag. Mrs. O'Daley dropped it off in my room without a word. She stared at me, her eyes ogling my body, and the array of bruises that had formed over my skin. "You're no longer welcome in our home," she said, her eyes full of tears. "You were asking for it," she accused, as I shifted further towards the head of the bed. "My husband would never do a thing like this. Never."

"Well he did!" I yelled back, sick of her accusations "He came into my room and he raped me!" more tears trickled from my eyes, weaving their way down my cheeks. A staff member burst into the room and dragged Mrs. O'Daley away, shutting her out of the room, and coming back over to me. I practically launched myself into this strangers arms and buried my head in her chest, letting all the pent up emotions spill themselves onto her shirt and as I cried I silently vowed that it was never going to happen again. Not to me. Not if I can help it.

The End.