Author's note: Can I just say "wow"? I never expected so many people to be intriguid by the first chapter. Let's hope this part will do the same. Before I forget, I'm labeling this chapter as slightly dramatic because of the violence (insert evil laugh).
Special thanks to EternalConfusion for the beta-job, to M for all the suggestions she made (Sully came off as an idiot before she had a gander at this chapter), to Amasayda for the medical info and to Addictt for being my "reading guinea pig".
Chapter Two - When You Tore Me Apart
Wednesday May 30th 2007 -- 02:31 p.m.
Brennan perched her hip on the seat of the motorcycle as she watched Booth enter the small supermarket a bit further along. Moments ago they had pulled up at a large parking lot on the side of the road to take a break. They had been riding for hours, as if the hounds of hell were after them…in a way they were.
All those memories swirling around in her head could only be chased away when they were going 80 miles an hour. Only when they were tearing along the highway, her hair whipping in the wind, her sunglasses reflecting the bright sunlight and the asphalt humming under the wheels of their bike---only then could she feel free. She loved seeing their surroundings---miles and miles of barren sand except for the occasional cactus---fly by in a blur as she reveled in the warmth that seeped from his leather jacket and in the feeling of his muscles moving against her hands.
Temperance had never been one to initiate physical contact. Thanks to her friends back home and the man racing along with her, she had begun to understand and value the satisfaction you got from feeling another person's skin pressed against your own. Whenever she was leaning against him, holding onto his waist for support, she lost herself in the sense of safety that overtook her. With him around, Brennan wasn't afraid to slip up and reach out. The darkness and lack of air didn't suffocate her as much then.
As long as Booth was near to serve as an anchor in times of need, she wouldn't be pushed around by the wind, like that small piece of paper dancing over the parking lot. Her eyes followed the paper as it cut capers over the ground, never knowing where it was going to end up next. At the moment she sort of felt like that piece of paper; not knowing where she was heading, just trusting the wind to guide her in the right direction. With some help of the wind and Booth, she'd clear her head and find her way back to her old life.
A cold chill ran down her spine when she remembered the smile he had given her. She could still see the blood spatters trickling down the legs of the dining table and down the glass doors of the small cupboard, but what she remembered the most was the desperation that he had tried to hide. His smile had torn her apart. It had ripped her to shreds, more so than that maniac had managed to do.
Brennan locked her arms around her waist. Instant pain rushed through her, making her gasp for air. Breathe. I need to breathe. She had just gotten a hold of her breath when Booth returned.
"Here's your water. Room temperature, I'm afraid. The cooler was empty," Booth apologized as he handed her a bottle. He mimicked her stance and took a sip from his own bottle while staring off in the distance.
"It happened so fast," Temperance softly said.
"In the blink of an eye."
"I didn't even have time to breathe."
Booth remained quiet for a few moments. "Neither of us did."
---°---
Thursday April 26th 2007 – 10:53 a.m.
"Tempe, you can't go in."
"Why?"
"Because it's too damn dangerous!"
Booth, amused to no end, watched them fight from a distance. That's right, Bones. Give him a hard time. That's the least he deserves. He let his gaze wander over the group of black SUVs parked here and there on the empty lot, all the while eavesdropping on the rather heated argument between his partner and his friend. Sully was trying to keep Temperance from entering the immense Victorian house with them.
About an hour ago they had received a tip that the man they were after---a serial killer who loved to shoot at every body part of his victims before lodging a bullet between their eyes---was currently hiding in the dilapidated Victorian house half a mile to their left. It was a well-known hideout for crack junkies. They had been on this case for several weeks. Now that the murderer was close, they were eager to make an arrest and put him behind bars to make him pay for the atrocities he had committed. And now an extremely worried Tim Sullivan was trying to talk Brennan into staying behind. Booth smirked. Good luck with that, buddy.
One of the agents, who were running around on the previously empty lot, came up to Booth to inform him that everyone was in position and ready to close in on their prey. Booth sent him away with the instructions to wait for his signal to start the raid.
"That's not a valid reason, Sully."
"Tempe, just listen to me. There's a serial killer inside that house. A serial killer, for crying out loud!"
Booth chuckled. Wrong move, pal. Never point out the obvious when you're talking to Bones.
"I'm very much aware that he's a serial killer, Sully. I've been on this case as long as you have. You can't stop me from going in with you."
"Tempe, please. I'm begging you..."
"Sully!"
Seeing that Temperance was on the point of exploding made Booth launch himself off the SUV he had been leaning against during their whole exchange. As much as he wanted to see them fight some more---maybe then she would realize Sully wasn't right for her---he couldn't have them shouting like that on his operation. It could undermine his authority as lead agent, and that was something he didn't want to happen. He had already lost her; losing his authority would be too much to handle.
He approached the couple, focused on breaking up their fight and restoring the peace. "Let it go, Sully. I've been down this road before. She's coming with us. That house is full of drug addicts. Our killer could easily hide amongst them, which means we need her," he nodded at Brennan, "to find a match between the murderer's profile we've drawn up and the actual killer. Besides, there'll be a dozen agents plus us around to protect her if things get too dangerous. Not that she needs a lot of protecting; she can easily take care of herself. Trust me, I know." The last part was more mumbled to himself than to the others.
Temperance smiled in satisfaction. "Thank you, Booth."
One hand found its way to his hip, the other one he pointed straight at her face. Poking a probing finger in her direction, he warned her, "You're staying right behind me. You got that?" Temperance nodded. "Good. Let's get you a Kevlar vest and go in."
After the bulletproof vest had been securely strapped around Brennan, Booth signaled at the agents gathered at the front door to start the invasion. As silently as possible the flock of FBI-agents entered the house, swarming out to the left and the right in small groups of three. Booth went straight ahead, with Brennan and Sully in tow. Gun drawn he moved down the hallway. Temperance followed closely behind him. She had been on enough raids with him to know he had been serious when he had warned her to stay behind him. Sully closed the line. He had to make sure no one came up behind them to shoot them in the back.
They stalked through the hallway, checking rooms along the way, together with a couple of other agents. Cobwebs and thick layers of dust covered all the furniture they came across. The occasional junky snuck away when their flashlights slid across the rooms. Their footsteps echoed through the corridor, bounced off the walls and back to their ears. Even though their instincts told them to turn back, the three pushed further down the hallway.
As quietly as possible the threesome entered the living room. It took their eyes a few seconds to adjust to the darkness created by the wooden boards nailed to the walls to barricade the windows. Booth quickly scanned the perimeter. He was about to state the room was empty when a soft shuffling of feet caught his attention. They weren't alone after all. He brought his hand up in a closed fist to signal his companions to stay still while he tried to determine where the sound came from. Then he heard something that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.
The curt metal click of a flick-knife.
Booth barely had the time to register that there was someone carrying a knife in the same room, when a figure jumped up from behind the couch and threw himself at the anthropologist. Brennan's loud grunt broke the heavy silence moments before she doubled over in pain. Horrified Booth watched their attacker slash his knife across the patch of stomach that was left uncovered by the Kevlar vest. She cried out again when he buried his knife in her shoulder. It wasn't until Booth saw a dark stain form on her shirt that he found the strength to move his legs.
He launched himself forward and dragged the man away from the helpless anthropologist. Anger blazing from his eyes, jaw and fists clenched, Booth spun the man around. He didn't even bother to take a good look at the attacker's face; all he wanted to do was to bury his knuckles in the man's features. One punch smashed the man's nose, another one landed on his chin. Brennan's assailant gasped for air when the FBI-agent kicked him in the gut. One blow on the head with Booth's gun later, the man was sprawled out on the floor, unconscious and with blood leaking from his broken nose. Once he had verified that their assailant was out cold, Booth rushed over to Brennan who was clutching her stomach. Sully was already with her, trying to determine what damage the knife exactly had caused.
"Cuff him," Booth barked at Sully, shoving past him to get to Brennan. For a second Sully looked like he was going to refuse, but Booth's attention was already completely focused on assessing his partner's injuries. Silently, he left them to deal with Brennan's attacker. "Bones? Hey Bones, look at me." Booth gently nudged her chin up. The pain welling from her eyes took him by the throat for a couple of seconds.
"Booth, I..." Brennan inhaled sharply. "I can't breathe."
"Easy there, Bones," he shushed her. "Panicking won't help." Booth wished he could believe his own words. Razor-sharp fear coursed through his veins, instead of the blinding anger he had worked off on their attacker minutes ago, at the sight of his partner covering a rapidly growing bloodstain on her stomach. "Let me take a look at that," he softly asked her, gently pulling her arm away before removing and dropping the Kevlar vest to the ground. His breath hitched in his throat when he laid eyes on what the large tear in her shirt revealed. A long thin slash, oozing out a dark substance, ran across her abdomen.
"It looks worse than it is." He lifted his head to meet her gaze. Brennan grunted again. "It's this I'm concerned about," she nodded at the gap in her right shoulder.
He immediately, but carefully, wrapped his fingers around her arms to steady her. "Bones, this doesn't look too good." He cringed at seeing blood push out of the tear in her skin. "Thank God he didn't leave the knife in." His voice was hoarse, no more than a whisper. In his head he was already imagining how his partner would wheeze in pain as he jerked the knife out of her. It would probably feel like he would be pulling the knife out of his own heart when Brennan's flesh let go of the blade.
"No, you're wrong."
"Come again, I'm wrong? Are you kid- Bones, it would've been far worse if there'd been a knife sticking out of your shoulder." Booth purposely articulated the words knife and shoulder to stress the gravity of their situation.
Brennan managed to produce a wry smile. "Who's the doctor here, Booth? It would have been better if the knife had been left in my shoulder." The doubt must have been visible in his eyes because she continued her explanation, either drawing in sharp breaths or gritting her teeth in between sentences, "Imagine a cork on a bottle of wine. That's what the knife would have been for my shoulder. It would have delayed the bleeding. Who knows what damage there is now…perforated vessels...slid muscles...injured bones...The possibilities," she gasped, "are endless."
He loosened his grip on her arms as the knowledge that there could be disastrous consequences because the knife had been pulled out penetrated the dense fog clouding his mind. Booth gulped. She had to get attended to. Just the sight of fresh blood dripping out of the tears in her skin made his stomach turn. His hands fell to his sides before he slightly turned away from her. Feeling for his cell phone, he mumbled, "Then we better get you to a hospital."
"No need, Booth. I've got it covered," Sully butted in. While Booth had been attending to Brennan, Sully had slapped the cuffs on Brennan's attacker---a bit rougher and tighter than was necessary---and pulled out his phone to call for medical backup.
At the sound of Sully's voice, Brennan turned towards him and saw their unconscious attacker laying at his feet. "That's not our killer."
Booth frowned. "Why not?"
"For starters he used a knife. The guy we're after is..." She grunted and cradled her hurt arm against her equally hurt stomach. "Is crazy about guns. And his skeletal structure---too tall. The bullets we found..." Another grunt escaped her. "In our victims would have been shot from a different angle...if he was this tall."
"Bones, what are you imply-" He was stopped short by the sound of footsteps, closely followed by something that made his blood run cold---the soft click of a hammer being pulled back. Their nightmare wasn't over yet.
---°---
Wednesday May 30th 2007 -- 02:34 p.m.
The piece of paper she had previously been studying finally came to a stop against one of the tires of a parked car. Brennan slowly lifted her head to meet Booth's gaze.
"Can you breathe now?" she asked him, looking him straight in the eye.
He produced a weak smile. "Barely."
Oh dear, is that a cliffie? I think it is! I've never done one of those before. Have to say it feels exhilarating to some extent, but also very cruel since I won't be able to post the third chapter next week...Yes, that's right. You guys will have to wait two weeks for an update. I'm going on an Internet-free beach vacation so um...Go easy on me with the rotten tomatoes, will you? lol
