"Booth!"
In a flash of black and white, a large menacing figure rushed into the ninth floor hallway of the J. Edgar Hoover building, catching everyone a little by surprise. All eyes turned to their fellow agent as he stalked dangerously around the corner toward his office, intent on making it to the door before his partner caught up with him.
"Booth, don't you dare!"
But Special Agent Seeley Booth, hasty as he was, wasn't quite fast enough. Before he could pull the door shut, his partner, Dr. Temperance Brennan, had barreled her way through it, pushing Booth roughly aside with a grunt. As she took her anger out on his unsuspecting stress ball, Booth peered back out into the hallway, daring someone to make a comment. None of his co-workers would make eye contact; an FBI security guard lingered nearby, having followed them from the elevator, but even he seemed too afraid to interject. Booth eyed them threateningly and slammed the door, effectively shutting out the small congregation of spectators.
"Please, Bones. Just let this one go." He sighed, his head falling against the door in exasperation. But the silence in the room told him that his plea had gone unnoticed by a certain anthropologist.
He turned slowly, but refused to lift his eyes from the floor, not wanting to see the look of stony determination on her face. It wasn't very often that Booth let himself be chased into his own office, by someone other than the Deputy Director, but this time, Brennan just wasn't backing down, and he could feel the frustration building up inside of him, a volcano ready to explode.
'I most certainly will not." Brennan insisted. She knew that she was pushing him harder than she should, but even the genius in her could not comprehend why he was acting this way. A man was about to walk free after murdering half a dozen people, and Booth refused to do anything to stop him. He claimed they didn't have enough evidence to hold the suspect, but she'd never known him to be inhibited by something so miniscule as "the law". "You can't let him get away with this."
"I don't have a choice. We can't tie Troy directly to the murders, which means the D.A. won't touch it. Hacker said to cut him loose, so I cut him loose."
"So, what? Andrew tells you to jump, you say "how high?". You're such a coward." She spat, frowning in disgust. Then, she walked over and planted herself in front of him, chin raised defiantly, despite the obvious physical advantages she knew he possessed. He took a step closer, bringing their bodies within inches of each other, and stared down at her in disbelief.
"I am not scared of him." Booth growled. "What I am afraid of is losing my job. If I go against orders one more time, you know they'll take my badge. And where would that leave us, huh? Nowhere. I'd be out on my ass and you'd be stuck back in the lab. But at least you would have gotten your way." He knew it was a low blow but, at the risk of sounding like a third grader, she'd started it.
"I can't believe this! You don't think catching a murderer is worth risking your job? He's responsible for the deaths of four women, Booth! That's six people if you count their unborn children. And I do."
"Bones..."
"No, I'm not letting this go. We have to go to Andrew's office. Now." She grabbed at Booth's shirt, and began pulling him in the direction of the door. He tried to shrug her off gently, but the grip on his arm only tightened, so the agent planted his feet firmly and prepared himself for another game of "tug of war".
"No, Bones, I'm not going." Brennan scowled at him and yanked as hard as she could, making him sway, but only slightly. He was a man, after all, and undoubtedly stronger than she was, but it made her no less determined to get him out of this office. And she would. One way or another.
"Booth, I'm serious." She squeezed his arm tightly, and he glanced at her in annoyance.
"So am I, Bones. Now, let go."
But she couldn't let herself. She trudged forward again, dragging him along with her, and he pulled back forcefully, the annoyed look on his face slowly giving way to rage. Brennan didn't seem to notice. She was uncharacteristically nerve-wracked about the whole situation, and her emotions were becoming more and more unmanageable as the scene progressed.
"Booth, please. If we just talk to Andrew, I'm sure-"
"No." Booth's harsh voice cut her off abruptly. She looked back at him in surprise, only to find that his expression had inexplicably darkened. "This ends now. Hacker already gave his orders. And it's time you went back to the lab. So, let me go."
He tried so hard to be calm. He really did. But somehow, this woman always ended up deep under his skin, and his self control would suffer a devastating hit. He'd yell and scream, and punch his way through walls, but, up until now, he'd managed to keep himself from actually hurting anyone. Normally, he'd push it down until he could get to the gym, where he frequently unleashed Hell itself onto every punching bag that was unlucky enough to be left in his general vicinity. But, for some reason, today was not a normal day. Today, the fire he'd always kept carefully contained was raging freely, and he could barely make out her face past all the red that he was seeing.
"No, Booth..." And that was it. That was the fatal blow.
"Let go!" He roared, sounding more like a wild animal than a human being. Then, he viciously tore his arm away, shoving his partner backward, and into filing cabinet. Brennan winced as her shoulder connected with a drawer handle, the force of the impact sending a metal bin crashing to the floor. She looked up at him, her face a mask of pain and confusion, but Booth just stared, the ferality in his eyes reminding her of a wounded animal ready to attack.
Before she knew what was happening, he was already across the room, pinning her to the cabinet. The coal black glare he usually reserved for hardened criminals was now aimed directly at her, and she found herself unable to move, helplessly frozen in fear. His fingers wrapped themselves around her arms, digging painfully into the flesh, and she cried out, hoping that the sound of her distress would snap him out of it. "Booth..."
"Why don't you listen, huh? Why can't you just let it go?" He was right up against her, his hot breath stinging her cheeks. "It's my case, understand? I make the rules. I'm in charge, not you..."
And suddenly, as the fury was drained from his body, Booth was five years old again, trapped in the cruel, unrelenting hands of his father.
Dull, pitiless eyes bore into him, and his arms were squeezed harder and harder, leaving a trail of ugly bruises on Seeley's skin. He could feel himself being shaken, over and over again, like a rag doll, as the words were spat coldly in his face.
"I'm the man of this house! I make the rules, understand? I'm in charge, not you!"
"Booth, you're hurting me..."
He screamed at the top of his lungs until his throat was raw, until he could no longer speak, and all that remained were desperate whimpers. It never mattered if he was wailing in pain or nearly mute with fear, the words seemed to fall on the same callously deaf ears.
"Daddy, stop! Daddy, please! You're hurting me!"
Booth struggled to breathe as he was forced violently back into the present, the reality of what he'd just done hitting him like a well-placed slap to the face. His eyes widened and he stared down at his partner in shock, his heart wrenching painfully as he realized the look of betrayal on her beautiful face was for him.
"Bones?" She wouldn't meet his eyes, and he suddenly felt sick to his stomach, the thought of hurting her almost more than he could bear. The blood drained from his face when he saw that the skin on her arms had begun to bruise under his fingers, and his hands, which only moments ago had seemed to act on their own accord, suddenly became his again. With a gasp, he jerked them away, and forced himself to take a step backward, to place as much space between him and Brennan as possible. His eyes filled with tears and he fought the urge to vomit as his mind was suddenly overrun with panic.
Oh, God she hates me! She'll never talk to me again. She's afraid of me. We can't be partners anymore. I don't deserve to be her partner. I don't deserve to be alive. I'm just like my father. I'm just like him. How could I do this?. What have I done? What have I done?
Their eyes met for just a split second, and before she had a chance to comfort or condemn him, Booth was already heading toward the door. A sob caught in her throat as he ran out of the office, and she waited until he was gone before she allowed herself to break down, collapsing in a fit of hysteria on his office floor.