A/N: I appreciate all the reviews, the story alerts, etc.! Please forgive me for not responding to the reviews on this and "Closure -" I've been dealing with some health issues.

Disclaimer: Bones is owned by Hart Hanson and FOX.

25 hours previously…

Booth looked at the platform filled with his Bones and his squints with mixed feelings of pride and worry.

Pride, because though it was past 10:30 at night, long after everyone up there could have (and, except for Bones maybe, would have) left to go home like normal people, they were all there, giving 100% to the case.

Worry for the same reasons. This case was starting to wear on everyone. The latest body made it worse.

When they'd found the first body with the challenging note from The Professor, they all thought they'd solve it quickly. But in spite of their work, they couldn't come up with anything conclusive.

Then, a month after that, the second body with another taunting note appeared. That had been two weeks ago. Now there was another body. And another note.

Cam, dark circles under her eyes, stood at the head of the table where the body lay. "All right. Let's go over this one more time."

Patrick Gates, an intern who'd been working in Zack's place for the last two months, spoke up first. He wore his blond hair long and in a ponytail, something that Booth had made some snide comments about. Bones had responded by pointing out the anthropological significance of hair until Booth begged for mercy.

"The victim apparently died in terrible discomfort, as did the previous two," Gates said, stealing glances at Bones as if seeking her approval for every word. "There's no sign of trauma to the bones except for a small nick on the left scapula that might have been caused by a syringe."

Bones nodded, her shoulders sagging. "There's signs on the wrists and ankles that he struggled violently. Perhaps when he was set afire."

"You think he was burned alive?" Booth shuddered.

Cam shook her head. "No. I got the tox screen back – there's a variation of the same compound we found in the first two victims."

"Do we know any more about that?" Booth asked. "What it is, what it does?"

Cam shook her head. "I'm not much further on that then I was before. It's definitely toxic – but how it works, I don't know. I can tell you it would have caused the victim a lot of physical pain and distress."

Booth ran a hand through his hair. "Angela, we got an ID?"

The artist nodded, her usual good cheer replaced by melancholy. "Yes. He's Roger Foreman, reported missing four days ago." She sighed, rubbing her eyes. "He was an English teacher. Married for three years, one daughter, aged 8 months."

There was silence as the group absorbed that sad piece of information. Booth pinched the bridge of his nose. That… he thought a word that he knew he'd have to add to his list of things to confess.

A man who was a teacher, with a wife and baby. Before that, a college junior, a girl who spent her spare time working at a food bank, whose body had been partially eaten by two dogs found shot at the crime scene. Before that, a man in his mid-fifties who'd been a deacon at his church, whose skin had been eaten away by some kind of acid.

All decent people, at least how Booth defined decent. All who apparently had no connections with each other. All who somehow disappeared without a trace only to be found four or five days later, horrifically dead.

"Booth?"

He jerked his head up, saw Bones looking at him with concern. He realized it was the second time she'd spoken his name. "I'm sorry. What?"

Hodgins spoke up. "I was just saying that based on the maggots and other bugs I found, the guy probably died the day before yesterday. So at least it wasn't the fire that killed him."

"Then why was he bound?" Booth said.

"It probably made the body easier to transport," Bones said. "And he was bound in his captivity – the killer probably chose not to undo them."

"Great," Booth said. "So is there anything else here?"

The team exchanged weary looks with each other. "I'm going over the notes again, seeing if there's something we missed the first two times," Angela volunteered.

"There might be something I can pick up with the soil samples. There's commonalities with all three victims, but nothing that narrows things down," Jack said.

"Mr. Gates and I can go over the bones again, see if there's any clues that will help us identify The Professor," Bones said, already bending over the bones on the table.

"I'll see if I can hurry the lab up with those tox screen results," Cam said. "But we'll do all this tomorrow."

Angela, Hodgins, Gates and Bones all started to protest. Booth stepped forward. "Cam's right. We're all dead tired, and tired means mistakes. Everyone go home and get some sleep."

Angela was the first to obey, her shoulders sagging. Hodgins stuck his hands in his pockets and followed after her, muttering a "See you tomorrow" to Booth as he passed.

Gates took a couple of steps, then paused to look back at Bones, who was still bent over the table. Booth went to her and put a hand on her shoulder.

"'Everyone' means you too, Bones. Come on, give this a rest for a few hours."

She looked up at him, and he saw how the stress was etched on her face. He hated that. "Booth, we have to catch him. You know we do."

"We will," he promised. "But not tonight. You're dead on your feet, Bones. Just take a few hours to recharge. I will too. Okay?"

She opened her mouth to protest, but it turned into a yawn. He smiled, knowing he had won. She sighed, stripping off her latex gloves. "Fine. Mr. Gates, I want you in early tomorrow morning so we can resume our examination."

"No problem, Dr. Brennan. Have a good night," Gates said, quickly moving off the platform. Cam waited until she was sure Bones was really leaving before she too removed her gloves.

Booth placed his hand on Bones' back and guided her out of the Jeffersonian. He hated to admit it, but he was tired too. He wanted to catch this killer. Before there was another body. Before there was another note.

Before the killer could hurt Bones' spirit again.