"Aren't you tired?" Temperance asks Angela.
"I'm fine,"
"Why don't you go home and take a shower, and get some rest?"
"I'm not going to leave you alone,"
"How long have you been here?"
"It's not important,"
"Angela go home. I'll be fine,"
"No. I'm not leaving you here alone. You might try to sneak out or something,"
"I doubt that I can get free off all of this before someone notices,"
"You're intelligent I wouldn't put it past you,"
Cam knocks on the door. Angela motions her in.
"How are you feeling?" Cam asks her.
"Do you really have to ask?"
"Right,"
"Will you make her go home?" she asks.
"She's right. You should go home. You've been here what four days?"
"I don't think that it's been that long,"
"It has," Cam tells her.
"I'm fine," she tries to convince them, but her yawning betrays her.
"Go home. I can stay with her," Cam tells her.
"Are you sure?"
"I won't leave her for a second," Cam tells her.
"Ok," Angela agrees as she gets out of her chair. She walks over to Temperance and hugs her.
"Bye sweetie. Call me if you need anything,"
"Ok," Temperance agrees.
"Do you want me to call your dad?" Cam asks.
Temperance looks at her as if she's stupid. "No. I don't want him here. I don't want him to see me like this,"
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, I mean unless you want a murder on your hands,"
"I don't think that he'd be wrong this time,"
Temperance stares down. She moves her hand and realizes that she's got bruises on her wrist. She looks at the other wrist, and finds another bruise. Cam steps in quickly. She pulls the blanket up to her chest.
"When do I get to go home?"
"I'm not sure. They probably want you to breath on your own for a while,"
"I can breath just fine,"
"I wouldn't be so sure,"
Temperance pulls the oxygen out of her nose.
"See," she points out.
Cam watches the monitor as her oxygen falls. It reaches 60 and she grabs the tube.
"Put it back in. You don't have anything to prove here," she insists.
Temperance looks at her grudgingly and then complies.
"Is it true?"
"What?"
"That they thought my wind pipes were crushed?"
"They were concerned about it. They did some x-rays and a MRI to be safe,"
"What did they do an MRI for?"
"They thought that you had a concussion,"
"Oh,"
"You were hit with something,"
"A lamp," she answers.
"Are you sure?"
"I think so. That's the only thing close by that would make this shape," she points to her stitches.
"How much do you remember?"
"Enough. I can only remember bits and pieces,"
"Do you want to talk to Sweets?"
"No. I'll be fine,"
"I think that you should talk to someone, even if it isn't Sweets,"
"I'm fine," she insists.
"As your boss I insist," Cam tells her.
"Whatever," she answers.
"Do you need anything?"
"No," Brennan insists.
Agent Booth arrives just after eight p.m. Cam is flipping through a magazine, and Temperance is asleep.
"You can go now Cam. I can take it from here," he tells her.
"Are you sure? You should go home and get some rest too,"
"I'll be fine,"
"Ok," she sighs.
Temperance wakes up about an hour later. She finds Booth in a chair with his head laying next to her leg. She runs her fingers through his hair.
"Why are you petting me?"
"I'm not," she answers as she removes her hand.
He sits up and gives her a look.
"You know that they're going to start reducing the amount of pain meds you get,"
"And?"
"You're going to be in a lot of pain,"
"I'll be fine," she reassures him.
"I wouldn't be so sure," he tells her.
"What do you mean?"
"You're covered in bruises,"
"I know," she answers.
"And not little bruises you get when you bump your knee. Some of these are softball sized,"
"I'll be fine,"
"It's ok if you're not,"
"How many?"
"How many what?"
"Stitches,"
"Forty one stitches, and at least a dozen bruises,"
"Why can't I remember?"
"I thought that you did,"
"I can only remember bits an pieces,"
"You probably blacked out," he admits.
"I guess,"
"What do you remember?"
"Not enough,"
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"There isn't much to talk about. I don't remember that much,"
"What do you remember?"
"I remember thinking that I heard someone. Then I remember feeling like someone was standing over me. Then I remember waking up and seeing someone standing over me,"
"Did he say anything?"
"He told me not to scream," she recalls.
May 30th 11:36 P.M.
"You can take whatever you want but please just don't do this," she begs.
"Shut up!" he demands.
He buckles his belt. She closes her eyes and hears his pants drop to the floor. She opens her eyes and looks at him. Something welled up inside of her. It wasn't fear, she would have expected that. It was the anger that she didn't expect. He rips the covers off her. He bends down and whispers in her ear. "This is going to be the best you've ever had," he says sadistically.
She grabs him by the hair of the head and knocks him into the headboard. Then she pushes him. He loses his balance, and she crawls to the end of her bed. As she reaches the foot of the bed he grabs her by the hair of the head. "That was a stupid move," he tells her.
And that was it. For some reason she couldn't remember the rest. She wasn't sure that she wanted to remember the rest.
"It's ok. You don't have to relive anything that you don't want to," he tells her.
She stares into his eyes and nods. She hears the door open and she turns her head. She sees Angela standing in front of her. She's wearing fresh clothes, and has some make-up on.
"I'm glad you went home and took a shower," Booth tells her.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Angela asks.
"I didn't want to say anything, but you were starting to be rank,"
"Thanks," she rolls her eyes at him.
"I'm just being honest,"
"Then I'll be honest, you can go home now,"
"Is that ok with you Bones?"
"Yeah go you need your rest too," she tells him.
"Ok," he agrees.
Half an hour later Temperance has fallen back asleep. Angela paints her nails quietly.
"No," Temperance says in her sleep.
Angela looks up. She screws the lid on the bottle and sits it on the floor. She watches as Temperance starts to toss and turn.
"No," she begs.
"Bren wake up," she says softly.
"Come on sweetie," she pleads as she squeezes her hand.
Temperance opens her eyes and looks at her friend with terror.
"Are you ok?"
"I don't think so," she answers.
"What were you dreaming about?"
"It wasn't a dream," she answers.