Chapter One~
There was a steady and soft drip, drip, drip on something thin like the sink...most probably from the loose grip of the faucet. She could feel her wrists burn with every movement, by the friction from her skin and the rough, thick rope that bound her hands from behind.
Her eyes flickered open, once again adjusting to the void darkness before her. There was just nothing to see. Except for her heavy, panting breaths of never ending struggle, everything else was pin drop quiet. As far as memory served, she'd been in that loony bin for quite some time. A few months, maybe two years at most, as what she believed.
Her stomach growled. Clay, at least that's what he made her believe of who he was, most often than not, gave her canned and preserved foods, even violating her vegan way of living. She couldn't remember the last time she had 'real' food. Like the ones she used to always order on lunch times with Booth. Booth. Where are you Booth. She said to herself, more like a statement than a question.
-o-o-o-o-o-
"I just think that there's a possibility that If I die..." Brennan finally opened up, after a long time of Booth trying to dig into what brought her so attached to their just-solved case.
Booth scoffed, "Whoa, Bones. Don't talk like that."
"We're all going to die, Booth. That's not...preventable." She reasoned. Booth nodded, though the idea of his partner 'dead' dead made him sick to the stomach. Then she went on,
"If I die, I might disappear unnoticed, Booth. I am..." She looked away, and took a short moment to hold back soft sobs in the back of her throat.
"I am alone. Angela has Hodgins, you got Hannah, Cam has Michelle, Sweets has Daisy..."
"Bones, hey. Don't say that. When you die..." she felt his throat clench by his own words. "...I'll notice. I'll know, Bones. We'll all do. 'kay?"
-o-o-o-o-o-
His last words rang endlessly in her mind. If she believed in irony, she'd have thought how strange it was how their last conversation seemed to fit the event that happened the morning after. Disappearing without a trace.
Brennan thought it would be better if she really was dead. Like everybody else believed. Burned into ashes from an unfortunate plane crash. That way, they couldn't find her remains. Not a thing that belonged to her, or anything.
Dead. If she really was dead, she won't have to suffer anything from this love sick admirer slash perpetrator Clay Summink.
Clay. Clay Summink. He belonged to the few people Brennan classified as...brilliant. Like the gravedigger, only he was literally handsome. Charming.
Suddenly heavy footsteps filled the air. Brennan shivered. It felt like being one of the captives in a horror movie, only worse. The door swung open, allowing a short glimpse of the environment outside her...cell. She found out a few months earlier, she was being held in a modest home. Sometimes she heard children laughing. Music ringing, church music playing. But most of the time, it was just Clay and her.
Clay let out a sharp cackle, turning on the switch on the side of the door.
"Hey Tempe."
His voice pierced through her, like a thousand pricks to the heart. She used to secretly love to listen to the English accent. But now, she saw no beauty in it anymore. The voice constantly haunted her even in her sweetest of dreams. Always chasing her, inflicting pain.
"How are you, love?"
No answer.
He stepped closer, and placed a tray of yet another round of unhealthy food for her on a small, marble counter.
No answer.
"You know, you should be all warmed to me by now. It's been two years and seven months for god's sakes."
The information bore sharp holes into her sanity. Had it been almost three years already? She definitely lost track of time. A tear fell from the corner of her cheek unnoticed, as she glared coldly at the man who caused her life to turn upside down. "Why..." her voice cracked from not enough usage. "...why are you doing this..."
Clay returned a sharp glare, with a devious smirk planted on his pretty lips.
"You're suffering, cause you didn't choose me. Remember?"
"I chose nobody." Brennan reasoned coldly, like she had always been.
"Oh puh-lease." Clay said, exaggerating badly on his accent. "You should have known better, Temperance. Oh, and...before I forget. You must know, the FBI agent. What...what's his name again?"
Booth. No, no, this could not be happening.
The thought of Clay knowing how Booth was scared her. Her eyes widened, ideas of all sorts, good and bad, came rushing into her mind.
"What did you do to Booth?" She cried out, struggling once again with the knots on her feet and hands, forgetting all the burns on her wrists.
"Ah, see. You actually choose him. Even without saying. Poor little rich girl,-" he grinned at his words. "I've learned that from Titanic."
She continued to struggle, and wanted to do just one thing : Save Booth, in whatever danger Clay put him into.
Clay stepped dangerously closer, leaned over her and put a finger softly onto her trembling lips.
"Shh, shh. Easy, girl. Calm down, sweetheart."
She shrugged away from his touch, wriggling her body in an attempt to make some distance between Clay and herself.
"Don't hurt Booth. Please...leave him be."
He raised his arms in the air indicating innocence. "I was just gonna tell you, he's moved on. You wanna know how much good he had done?"
Of course Brennan would want to know. But she shook her head sternly. She knew he'd tell her just about everything anyway. Clay chuckled, and it irked her how her suffering became his amusement.
"Oh, you'd want to know he's engaged now. Ahh, sweet little couple. I, myself, am a fan of those two. Very cute, I should say." He mused, enjoying the way he watched how her features contract, in trying to hold back her reaction to his 'news'.
Brennan felt herself sigh. Though she didn't know for relief, or...frustration, or shame. "You make contact with Booth..." she clenched his eyes close. "...and the others in my team?"
"Your team?" Clay mocked at her emotional unstability. "I thought you're dead?" he asked, then laughed at his own ridiculous, and unfit joke.
Brennan only glared. Though some kind of an itching feeling went over her. The kind of itch that made her want to see her friends again. Her family. Clay only noticed how much she struggled, and even thought of more ways to hurt her more.
"Interesing thing, is that, he's engaged to your replacement. I knew he had a thing for forensic anthropologist, aye." Clay went on.
Replacement? It had to be Wendell. He...he had my highest mark.
Suddenly, a feeling hit her. She was certain she felt that many times before, but was too proud to admit it to herself, or to others. Could I be feeling jealous?
It was like as if her world turned sideways, up and down, and she remained in the center of everything, stationary. Of course Booth would move on. He's...he's that kind of guy. I missed my chance. I made a mistake, I missed my chance. She could only shake her head. Too late now.
She didn't notice as Clay put the tray on the floor close to her, and only regained sanity when he touched her hands, untying it so she could eat.
"I demand green leafy vegetables on my plate. If that's possible." She said coldly, trying to hold back her emotions. She'd never want him to see her weak, though she was sure it was exactly what she was doing all the time.
Clay let out a sharp laugh.
"You amaze me, you vegans. I don't even buy veggies." Clay replied, mimicking a nauseous reaction. "Never liked how they taste."
Brennan scoffed, turning away. Clay grinned, and motioned to the heavy steel door. Before leaving, he turned to her one more time.
"One more thing, darling. I prepared a room for you in the attic. Hope you like lavender."
Silence. She wished he would just go away
"I love you, Temperance. If you would just agree to marry me, we'd be free and very happy. Think about that, sweat pea. Think think think." He merrily said.
The very thought of marrying him made her want to throw up.
At least, he left with the light on.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
He liked to prepare rooms for her. A decent one, actually. Everything would be neat, and clean, and would smell of fresh flowers straight from his garden. Sometimes, she played 'Pretend Psychologist' and tried to assess and study her perpetrator. From the outside, no one would ever suspect him of something horrible.
Clay was handsome, tall, charming. But inside he was a lunatic. Psychopath. Very similar to a sadist.
Clay prepared pretty rooms for her, but, one wrong move of trying to escape, and she was sent back to that cold, dark room nobody probably knew about but him. Stubborn as she had always been, she tried to escape each time, and always failed.
But something inside her churned when he decided he 'forgave' her aleady. A few more hours. She could plot her escape again. This time, she'd be more careful. She'd put all her smarts into it, and nothing would stop her. But for now, she'd eat the horrible steak he gave her, and then drift off to sleep and slip into a sweet oblivion that had become her recreation, dreaming.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
A/N : I've thought of this for quite some time now, and I hope you like it. Partly inspired by my addiction to Mara Clara, a soap here in my country. The idea of Brennan's possesive admirer is from that show. Next chapter's already up, see if this would get a little attention, then I'd update.
Please review ;) Let me know what ya think.
Disclaimer : I have a lot of bones, but I do not own Bones.