Christopher listened him patiently, not interrupting, keeping silent, and then thought about the sense of this chatter. In spite of his sins he treated the promises responsibly and had always been keeping them. It was the policy of his doubtable honor. And by the reason of it he had to weight advantages and disadvantages carefully and decide once and for all: whether he should swear an oath. He really was crazy about these things, but it was rare for anyone on the deathbed to dictate terms to him. But Booth was an exception to the rule, and the criminal could afford to give in for this. As a sign of respect, so to speak.

"I don't need your permission to harm you. The deal hasn't got a sense," he didn't refuse, but implied that Booth hasn't persuaded him enough yet.

"It has if you have a dignity. Face it, you'll kill her by my death anyway, figuratively saying, of course, what else do you want? Her body? No, she won't let it, being alive".

Pelant frowned. What did he want at all? He couldn't answer this question clearly. He wished he could be alone with her, where was not a soul for miles, somewhere in a quiet lonely place.

He dreamed about to talk to her. Without her fear, without a gun on her hip — just to spent their time together as if they had always been familiar.

Doctor Sweets could write anything he want in his reports, but Christopher was a realist and had been always understanding Brennan doesn't love him. Besides, she's afraid of him and hates him for wounds he inflicted. But he couldn't ignore her phantom interest coming through layers of disgust and antipathy. He drew her attention not as a man, but as an equal to her, someone of a similar passion, but he didn't care about it.

"I will kill her," he repeated unwittingly, then blinked and stared at Booth.

His words seemed to the agent worse than war, and he has already lost control over his emotions.

"What... What are you talking about?"

"I'll kill her by your death".

"So," he said, looking at himself in a mirror regrettably; "Deal?"

"Deal. I do this not often, especially if we're meaning so serious agreement, but... have it your way. Consider she's in safety. Just give me a favor: lay calmly and don't bother me, okay?"

Seeley sighed with relief. It was strange, unique feeling — a self-deception with a hint of naivety. Booth had never been trusting Pelant and wasn't going to, but he had no choice except to reassure his soul this way. After all, it was getting better when he was closing his eyes and imagining for a second how his noble sacrifice will secure Temperance. Suddenly, he laughed nervously.

"What is funny?"

"Nothing," he answered, catching his breath a bit; "Hey, when you will see her next time, please, tell that I love her so much".

"She knows".

"Anyway, tell her anyway. It can never be enough. Now... Let's start".

Pelant turned confused at first, but regained control fast. He came behind the headrest and leaned towards him, gazing at the agent intently. It made Booth feel uncomfortable.

"Open your mouth," he asked and smiled vile; "I won't pluck out your teeth, I promise."

Hearing such a strange request that wasn't constitute anything good, Booth looked at him anxiously, irritatingly and sarcastically partly, but decided to behave the other way around: he gritted his lips and shook his head.

"Oh, come on, don't spoil my impression of you. Open your mouth," it sounded strongly.

"What for?" he whispered through his teeth.

"Oh my God, why are you so stubborn? It's not interesting to torture you! It was a surprise, you know".

"Oh, I'm so so sorry," Seeley pretended that he really was upset, but only for a few seconds; "I don't like surprises. Especially from you".

"Well, as you wish," Pelant rolled his eyes and shrugged.

He could make him obey, but it wouldn't bring him any satisfaction.

When the criminal took something from the table and raised this in front of Booth, showing him, the agent guessed with horror only after some time that he was holding nothing but a real rag.

"What you think you are?" it burst out of him loudly.

"Any problems?" Christopher was hiding his laugh hardly. He knew that this temper can play into the hands of him; "Trust my experience, that's better".

"I will not put this sh..."

Pelant excellently chose the moment when Booth has lost his vigilance due to anger and put a rag in his mouth quickly, ignoring his protest and making it difficult to fasten the belts of twitching.

"It's all already, calm down," he could barely fix the strap on the back of his head; "I understand that this is unpleasant for you, but it will be easier to bear the pain this way".

He didn't want to listen to him at all.

"Calm down!" Pelant's nerves weren't iron, although they were strong enough.

Christopher pulled the neck belt sharply, making the federal agent wheeze and choke with his own helpless. Apparently, he has forgotten a bit how much Christopher is capable of being cruel at will.

"If you don't stop resisting, I'll break our agreement and bring her right here, and she'll scream and cry so loud that you can't imagine. Understand?" he wasn't going to make good on these threats, but it was needed to remind Booth with who he's talking.

Seeley nodded weakly, lightly.

"That's great," Pelant said and relieved a wrenching belt.

The agent took a deep breath and bend as much as a chest belt let.

"Keep silent, be a good boy, and then, probably, your fate will be less awful. Probably".

Booth had never been feeling worse than now and not because of physical abuse. He bore gunshot wounds, shrapnel from mines under his skin, fractures and dislocations, but he hadn't been suffering so shameful humiliation. Anyway, he didn't have long to torment: Pelant took a knife and wasn't intending to derogate from his aim.

"While I was wasting my time with your stupid conversations, your blood dried. Fortunately, you can't say a thing anymore".

The hush was the answer. Booth looked away.

"I know who I am, don't curse me. Because l'm cursed already".

He put a cutting edge to the agent's body and made a short, but deep gash. His eyes became crazy due to this action, and Booth saw the Devil's soul in them.

"I have no idea why, but in a cinematography it's okay to show how the main character bears all tortures bravely and even snarl with antagonists," Christopher was telling, continuing to cut his collarbones, twisting the knife inside.

The agent was witnessing through the mirror what he's doing with his body, and suddenly he understood his evil intention: he's scalping him. Seeley clenched his fists and screwed up his eyes, his veins bloated from the strain.

He has thought many times about every Pelant's murder, remembering mutilated corpses burning into his mind, he has reflected on how much his victims had hurt before their deaths. Well, he's about to know this firsthand.

"But everything is different in real life. It's impossible to suffer this pain without a heartening scream, and I don't like screams. Groans, tears — that's a real pleasure for my ears, when squeals and others — an annoying mess. So, I advise you to have a deep breath and not hold yourself back. One, two..."

"I love you," his last thoughts were about her. About the one in whom he think the world of from the very beginning to the very end. He loved Temperance more than his life, he was ready to give everything for her, and he gave himself eventually in the name of her salvation. He will bear it. He will bear everything in the world in the name of her.

"Three".

A small cleaned-up room with uneventful whitewashed walls and curtained windows became filled with the loud howling. And soon the lines sang by a measured, calm voice had begun to be heard on this desperate background:

"It's all a game, avoiding failure,

When true colors will bleed

All in the name of misbehavior

And the things we don't need".

Far away from them, at those abandoned factory where a rescue operation was doomed to failure, Brennan, working with a team of the best federal agents, suddenly stopped for no reason. Her glance froze for a moment, and suddenly she felt something cracked in her chest as if the bones were breaking. However, not a flesh was ached, but the soul.

"He's not here," she said with inexplicable certainty, although they just went inside; "He is ...not..."

~oooOOOooo~

Booth didn't expect to open his eyes again, somewhere deep down he was afraid to open his eyes again. You could say, he even didn't want to do it. But fate changed everything. Not understanding where he is, is he alive or not, Seeley, not showing any signs of wakefulness, started to listen: there was a silence around, but with some incomprehensible persistent beeping. Being confident that it's the Pelant's handiwork, he regretted completely that he woke up because that meant his suffering wasn't over.

Booth moved a bit and noted with amazement that he didn't feel any discomfort at all, except for a strange sore-throat. He thought that Christopher specially pumped him full of something. Full of a paralytic, for example. However, with a slight movement of his right hand, he discovered that he was mistaken. Then he tried to tear his hand away from the bed and suddenly opened his eyes, not believing that there were no belts on it. But everything turned out to be a happy truth: he found himself in the hospital, and only a dropper was attached to his hand, which was empty, incidentally.

But he wasn't crazy and remembered well what happened with him. So, why he's still alive?

Seeley thought a little and took a dropper off, then took off other sensors monitoring the parameters of his life, and sat on the edge of the bed with an effort. He looked at his chest and got wide-eyed when he realized that it was bandaged up. Everything was real, no doubt.

And what could have made Pelant change his mind?