Chapter 6: Truth and Consequences
When I come to terms, to terms with this
When I come to terms with this
When I come to terms, to terms with this
My world will change for me
I haven't moved since the call came
Since the call came I haven't moved
I stare at the wall knowing on the other side
The storm that waits for me
(Parasol, Tori Amos)
The atmosphere at the lab was tense when Booth and Cam arrived. Angela ran up to them, tears on her face, and threw her arms around Booth. "You're going to find her, right?" she asked, her voice muffled against his chest.
At a loss as to what to say, he just put his arms around her. He nodded to Hodgins who walked up behind his wife. Hodgins looked at the fatigue and fear in Booth's eyes, and gently placed a hand on Angela's shoulder, drawing her back. She immediately leaned into him, as if she didn't want to be without physical contact for even a second.
Cam asked for an update.
Hodgins reluctantly answered, "We don't have much. The blood type matches Dr. Brennan's, but we've got to wait for the DNA match. Meanwhile, I've looked over all the debris your guys swept off the sidewalk and nothing stands out. It's all standard for the area, from all over the city. Angela's been looking at the copies of the security videos."
She looked up on hearing her name, wiping her face. "So far, I haven't been able to get anything that will help us. We can," she took a deep breath. "There's a shooter, but we can't see his face. Then a car pulls up, a second man helps the first put her in the trunk and they pull away turning at the end of the block. Booth, why did they do this? What's going on?"
"I want to see the video," Booth said shortly. He needed to see her, to see for himself.
"Seeley," Cam said in a warning voice. "You don't need to see that. Let's just go sit down for a minute."
"Cam, I can't just sit! She's out there somewhere, and we don't have a damn clue where she is or if she's even still alive." He strode away but couldn't think of where to go and began pacing back and forth. The others looked at each other, feeling helpless.
Booth's phone rang and he answered it instantly, feeling a strange sense of disappointment when he heard Hannah's voice.
"Seeley, seeing as your protector goons are here, I assume that everything did not go smoothly. I kind of thought you might be dropping by to let me know what exactly is going on."
"Hannah, now's not a good time."
She heard the tension in his voice. "What's wrong, honey?"
"Bones was abducted this morning."
Hannah gasped, suddenly frozen. "When?" she whispered.
"Early morning, 6:30 or 7:00."
"Oh god." Panic coursed through her. "Seeley, I need to talk to you."
"Hannah, not right now." Booth rubbed his neck. "I've got to stay here, if something comes up..." He didn't really know why he was reluctant to leave the lab. He just felt closer to her here; he didn't want to lose that connection.
"Seeley, it's important." He heard a strained note in her voice. "It's about Temperance."
"What? You know something?"
She stammered. "I, I don't know. Maybe, but I need to tell you in person. Please, come over here."
Booth closed his phone, looking at it mystified. Cam looked at him. "Booth, what's going on?"
He shook his head. "I don't know. Hannah says she needs to talk to me."
"You should go. Talk to her, hug her, let her comfort you. We'll call you if anything comes up. Angela is working on different angles and reflective surfaces, seeing if we can get the license plate on the car. We've got this. Go ahead." Booth looked around, stunned that he hadn't noticed Angela and Hodgins leave the area. His head was not in the game. Maybe Cam was right, a brief break to refresh his thinking could help.
He nodded. "Call me."
"We will."
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Booth showed his badge as he passed the two men standing guard outside Hannah's office. Entering, he saw her typing furiously at her keyboard. He sat, legs jiggling, as she finished her thought. Finally, she looked up, startled at how tense and drawn he looked.
"It's bad, isn't it?" she asked.
"Yeah, they shot her, stuffed her in the trunk of a car, and we don't have a clue what happened next. So, yeah, it's bad."
"Oh god, Seeley. I have to tell you something and... I don't know how you're going to take it."
"Just tell me already," he snapped. He didn't have time for these games and this was not making him feel any better.
She winced. "Okay, when I told you that Temperance knew I was working on the story, I may have left out a little bit."
"Like what?"
"She was actually helping me, getting some information. And then she went on an interview with me. Well, it was supposed to be an interview, but it turned out to be more like an ambush. We were surrounded by a group of men, who I'm pretty sure had killed my informant."
Booth froze. "When was this?"
"A week ago yesterday."
Booth thought about the bruise he had seen on Bones' face last Monday. "They hit her?" Hannah nodded. Booth found himself on hit feet, uncertain what to do now. Hannah's office was too small and cluttered for pacing. "And they threatened you?" he continued.
"No. Yes. I mean, they threatened me that they would... hurt her if I pursued the story."
"And you went ahead anyway?" Booth's fists were balled at his side, as he tried desperately to remember that he didn't hit women.
"Come on, Seeley, you always tell me how capable she is and how she can take care of herself! I mean, she didn't seemed fazed at all when they hit her."
"I knew it, I knew there was more to it than she was telling me." He wondered why she hadn't told him the truth. Of course, he hadn't really given her a lot of reasons to feel like she could confide in him. Coming back to the current events, he asked, "Did you tell her the story was coming out today?"
Hannah looked nervous. "No."
"Did you tell her the story was coming out soon?"
"No. She kind of probably thought that I wasn't pursuing it."
"Why would she think that?" Hannah was taken aback by how cold Booth's voice was becoming.
"Well, when I last talked to her I indicated that I was at a dead end." Her voice took on an excited tone. "But then I got this brainstorm! I mean, you wouldn't believe how I finally,"
Booth slammed his fists down on her desk, startling her to silence and dislodging several notebooks which fell to the floor. "I don't care. How the hell do you think I give a damn about your story when Bones is out there maybe," he swallowed harshly. He wouldn't say the word.
"So," he continued, "you knew she would be in danger, you gave her no heads up, and now you're sitting here trying to impress me with your journalistic skills?"
"Seeley, you're making it sound worse than it is. I honestly had no idea she would be in danger. I mean, what would the point be once the story is already published?"
He looked at her. She was honestly bewildered. "The point is that your journalistic prowess is not quite as wonderful as you'd like to believe. Caroline is convinced that you didn't identify everyone involved, including whoever's at the top. So, the point is to warn you off of publishing part 2 of the story."
Hannah looked scared. "There is no part 2. That was everything I have."
"They don't know that! I just don't understand how you could be so selfish. Don't you care about Bones at all? She helped you and you sent her out there like a sacrificial lamb."
"Don't be melodramatic."
"I think that's pretty accurate. You sacrificed her for your career." Booth was beginning to feel sick. How could all of this have been going on around him for weeks and he hadn't seen any of it?
"But what about what you're always telling me about how she can take care of herself?"
"If she knows something's coming, yeah. But if she's not expecting it... Dammit Hannah, stop putting this on her! You should have told her! You should have told me!"
"Seeley you're not the only one upset here. I liked her too."
Booth was enraged. "Don't ever use the past tense in regards to her," he hissed.
Hannah looked closely at him. Then she smiled softly. "Now I get it," she said.
"What?" he bit back.
"You know, this morning you were mad, you were concerned, maybe even a little worried. Now look at you. You are so wound up, I'm surprised you can move. Because it's her. Because you still love her."
"Don't make this about me. This is about you and what you did. You know, you have so many qualities similar to her: your passion and sense of adventure, your intelligence. But I never thought I'd hear myself say that she has more heart than you."
"What do you mean?"
"Why'd she go with you on that interview?"
"She thought it was dangerous. She wanted me to take you and when I refused, she insisted on coming with me."
He smiled grimly. "Yeah, that sounds about right. So, she put herself in a dangerous situation to keep you safe. And you couldn't be bothered to pick up a phone to tell her she might not be." Hannah was silent. "I don't know when I'll be back to the apartment, probably not till after we find Bones. But I want you gone I get there." He turned and stalked out, disgusted with Hannah and with himself.
Hannah yelled behind him, "Seeley, wait. Can't we talk about this?"
He just kept walking.
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Dr. Nick Halden walked through the halls at George Washington University Hospital on his way to meet a colleague for lunch. He'd received a last minute text that his friend, Dr. Edgar Tannenbaum, was observing an emergency surgery and to meet him near the surgical suites.
Spying his friend observing the surgery, Nick walked up, only glancing in at the surgery in progress. "You ready?" he asked.
"Yeah, I've only got a few minutes. Cafeteria okay?"
"You sure they can spare you?"
Tannenbaum nodded. "Yeah, this will be going on for a while. My students should be meeting me here in about 45 minutes." He shrugged and added, "Assuming she lasts that long. You may be seeing Jane Doe pretty soon actually."
Nick looked through the window again. Although he dealt with death all day long, it was always hard to see someone facing it. He moved closer to the window. "Oh my god. Wait, you said this is a Jane Doe?"
"Yeah," his friend confirmed. "She came in this morning, massive trauma from gunshots. They found her in a druggie/homeless area. Judging by her clothes, she's not homeless. Probably some high-society housewife looking for a thrill, drug-deal gone bad," he added in a bored voice.
"Edgar, that's Temperance Brennan. At least, I'm pretty sure it is." His friend looked blankly at him. "Temperance Brennan, the best-selling author, world-renowned scientist from the Jeffersonian." He thought for a minute. "Okay, I'm going to try to get a hold of someone she works with, see if they can come make a positive ID or get her family here or something. You probably want to make a note on her admission file."
"She probably doesn't have an admit file yet. They rushed her in so fast. Sometimes, we just wait until afterward."
"Fine, whatever. I'll see you in the cafeteria in 10 minutes."
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Booth arrived back at the Jeffersonian, more agitated than when he had left. Before Cam could question him about what had happened with Hannah, an intern came to let her know she had a phone call.
He looked at Angela. "Any luck?" he asked dully.
She shook her head, numb and frightened. Booth wished he had something he could tell them all to raise their spirits, but the more time that passed, the more certain he was that they wouldn't find her in time. He had called Hacker and Caroline on his way back, passing on the information that this was likely related to Hannah's article. But it felt futile.
All of a sudden the atmosphere in the room changed as Cam came hurrying in. "We've found her, we think." Everyone looked up, waiting for the next sentence. "She's in surgery at GWU. They got a tentative ID off the director of the DC Morgue, who just happened to be there. Let's go."
They all followed Cam out, daring to hope for the first time in hours.
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The team trooped into the surgical waiting room. A nurse was waiting to meet them there. She looked at the four of them. "I think we'll only need one of you to come back and identify the patient."
Booth stepped forward, but Cam put her hand on his arm. "I'll go," she said.
"No, Cam. I want to go. I need to see her." His voice was almost pleading.
"Seeley, you don't need to see her like this. I can go back, make sure it's her, and find out her status." She looked him in the eye. "You can see her after the surgery."
He wanted to fight. Bones had been there for his surgery. He should be there for her now. But Cam was right. He wasn't strong enough to handle seeing his Bones laying there, surgeons impersonally cutting and sewing. He nodded to Cam and sat down heavily in a chair.
Hodgins helped Angela to a chair. "Hey did anyone call Sweets? I mean, does he know about any of this?" No one answered. Hodgins shrugged and said, "I'll do it." He pulled out his cell and left a message when he got Sweets' voice mail.
After about ten minutes Cam returned, looking grave. She sat down near everyone. "It's her." Angela released the breath she had been holding. Booth wouldn't relax, Cam's expression telling him they were not in the clear. Cam took a deep breath, calling on her medical training to distance herself from the facts she was reporting. "Multiple GSW, resulting in a collapsed lung and internal bleeding."
Angela whispered, "GSW?"
"Gun shot wounds." Angela nodded, slowly.
"The surgery will take a few more hours at least. We might as well make ourselves comfortable."
"Will she make it?" Booth's voice was harsh as he tried to control the emotion flooding him at the images that had been running through his mind since they entered the hospital.
"It's promising that she's made it this far, but the surgery is only the first hurdle. The belly wound has increased chance of infection that will have to be monitored closely for a few days." She hesitated. Booth stared at her.
"With injuries of this type... Massive internal bleeding resulting in lower blood pressure, coupled with lower oxygenation of the blood due to the collapsed lung, can result in oxygen deprivation in the brain."
"Oh god." Angela buried her head into Hodgins' shoulder.
They sat without talking for a while. Sweets showed up and Hodgins brought him up to speed. Sweets looked around. Angela was the most visibly upset. Hodgins was being strong for his wife and would probably deal with his fear and grief later. Cam, a doctor by training and used to dealing with death, was maintaining a more professional facade, although Sweets could see the toll it was taking on her. But Booth was just sitting there like a statue, a man caught in the sharp claws of grief.
The psychologist wandered over to Booth and sat down next to him. "Agent Booth?" Booth looked up at him after a moment, his eyes deep pools of pain. "Perhaps you'd like to call Hannah. I understand you must be worried about her too. And it may help you to deal with this better if you have someone to lean on."
It took a minute for Sweets' words to make sense to Booth. Then he laughed, a harsh, derisive sound in the quiet room. Everyone looked over at him.
"No, I don't want to call Hannah," he said. Sweets looked slightly alarmed at the nearly maniacal light in his friend's eyes. "She's the reason Bones is in there." Booth suddenly stood up and started moving randomly around the room. Sweets looked to the others for clarification only to see that they were as mystified as he was.
Booth stopped and looked at them. "All these weird things she's been doing the past couple of weeks, the days off, the bruises, it's all because Hannah pulled her into that damn investigation! They warned Hannah not to pursue it, that Bones would get hurt if she did." He shrugged. "Well, you only have to look at today's front page to see what choice she made."
Turning around, he punched the wall, leaving a hole. "And I had no clue." He looked at their shocked faces, the faces of Bones' friends who had tried so hard to help her, while he had stood by and let her get sucked into this life-or-death game. "I can't be here right now."
They watched him go, still processing what he had told them.
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Booth walked up and down the hospital halls for almost half an hour, haunted by images of what might have happened to Bones. He couldn't stop imagining her on the ground, bleeding, alone. Alone, she should never have been alone. What had she been thinking, had she wanted him there? Was she scared? It killed him to think of her helpless, alone, and scared. He was supposed to be there for her, to hold her when she got scared. How long had it been since he'd even touched her hand?
Eventually, he found himself at the hospital chapel. Wearily, he walked inside, longing for solace. Yet, for the first time he could remember, he felt nothing. As he took a seat, he ran his hands over his jacket, noticing an item in his pocket. Taking it out, he saw that he still had her ring. It really should have been bagged as evidence. He must have just put in it his pocket while waiting for everyone else to get there. He closed his fist tightly around the ring, feeling its ridges dig into his palm.
Sitting there, feeling empty and tired, he remembered Bones asking him once, it seemed forever ago now, what happened when a case shook his faith. He had told her it always came back, eventually. Looking around the cold, dim room, he realized that this was it. If Bones didn't make it, neither would his faith. There was no coming back from this.
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Hannah tentatively stepped into the waiting room, unsure of what reception she would receive. Four pairs of eyes looked up at her.
"I, um, I just wanted to see how Temperance was doing. It's hitting the news now, you know, that's she here." Hannah didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed that Booth wasn't here.
Angela pushed herself to a standing position. Moving to stand in front of the blonde, she said, "Nice of you to care now. But it might have been a little more useful a week ago."
Hannah looked crestfallen. "Angela, you have to believe I never wanted this to happen."
"Maybe not, but at least you'll get a good story out of it, huh?" Angela retorted.
"I can't believe you'd say that!" She looked around, trying to see a friendly face. Even Sweets looked hard and shuttered. Hannah shrugged. "Okay, I just wanted... oh forget it."
"We will." Angela smiled as she plucked Brennan's sunglasses off of Hannah's head. "But I won't forget these. It's customary to bring a gift when you visit someone in the hospital."
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Brennan could think of no logical reason that she should be able to observe herself lying on an operating table during surgery. She deduced that it must be an hallucination produced by her brain to deal with the trauma it was enduring. Searching her mind, she remembered her last thoughts before losing consciousness: a panicked desire to see Booth one last time. She realized that that the panic was no longer present. In fact, she felt very comfortable and content. She felt a hand brush across her hair, settling on her back. Turning to the source of the movement, her mouth opened in surprise. "Mom?"
Lost in feelings of warmth, love, and acceptance, she was only vaguely aware of the urgent voices in the background, rising above a long, steady tone.
Author's Note: Sorry for two cliff-hangers in a row. I really didn't plan it this way. I have the next chapter written in draft form, but I'm not quite happy with it yet. I will try to get it up as soon as possible :)