Chapter Seven
Black Balloon
You know the lies they always told you
And the love you never knew
What's the things they never showed you
That swallowed the light from the sun
Inside your room
Comin' down the world turned over
And angels fall without you there
And I go on as you get colder
or are you someone's prayer?
~Goo Goo Dolls
Sam Cullen was not having the greatest few days. Yesterday, there had been the news that Mitchell Gray had been killed. Then there had been the multiple arguments with Booth. All in all, his biggest operation was not going as smoothly as hoped.
In addition to all that, yesterday there had been the visit from Agent Perotta, stating that was hoping to return to field work and partner with her, followed two hours later by Lance Sweets, categorically insisting that Cullen should refuse Dr. Brennan's request. When pressed for a specific reason, however, Sweets had become rather uncooperative.
Then, this morning, there had been the urgent call from the Seattle field office. Ironically, they needed a forensic anthropologist. Soon. And covertly.
Now, the forensic anthropologist in question entered his office, looking somewhat worse for the wear.
Brennan had run back to Booth's to change from her soaking wet clothes, but didn't take the time dry her hair. It was pulled back, wet, curled tendrils spilling chaotically from the ponytail.
And, as Cullen noted with more than a twinge of guilt, it was obvious she had been crying recently.
"Dr. Brennan," he said, nodding his head in greeting.
"You wanted to see me?" She jumped right to the point, sitting stiffly in one of the chairs facing the deputy director's desk.
"Yes. Agent Perotta informed me of your desire to resume working with us, in active field duty. However…I have a slightly different proposition for you."
Instantly skeptical, Brennan's brow furrowed. "What's that?"
"Are you familiar with the serial killer in Washington state? Been active the past year?"
She nodded slowly, "They found three victims early on, correct? All women, twenties or thirties. Suspected that he killed seven others, but no remains recovered."
"Exactly. Cause of death was multiple stab wounds. I got a call this morning from the Seattle field office; they discovered his current burial site, in the mountains outside Seattle...eleven victims, four more than suspected. Some of them seem very recent."
"Alright…"
"And none of the closer forensic anthropologists are available. They've requested you come out, help identify the victims, and consult on the case. They're hoping this will give them what they need to finally catch the bastard."
"Oh…" Brennan's mind leapt ahead. An active serial killer case. Without Booth. It would be dangerous.
And that's what she wanted, right?
"I can do that."
Cullen rubbed his hands together. "Alright, excellent . There are a couple of conditions you may want to know about first-" The phone rang. Calls that went directly to him, rather than through a secretary, usually indicated something urgent, so Cullen broke off speaking to glance down.
He froze.
The line from the safehouse.
And he knew the most frequent caller.
For a split second, Cullen debated ignoring the call. But he couldn't do it; emergencies did happen.
"Excuse me" He snatched up the phone, every muscle in his body tense. "Cullen."
"Something actually happened this time," came Booth's voice.
"Put someone else on," Cullen ordered brusquely, not trusting himself not to slip up and call Booth by his name in a moment of frustration. Not to mention the fact that he felt incredibly horrible sitting there, talking to him in front of his obviously grieving partner.
"What? Why? Cullen, I'm serious, Patrick was on surveillance and he confirmed-"
"Put Patrick on. Now."
After a moment of grumbling, the other agent's voice came over the line. "Reynolds rejoined them, sir. Saw him myself."
Cullen smiled triumphantly. "Excellent. Get everyone together, as soon as possible. Call me back in ten minutes. Good work, Pat. And, listen…" Cullen thought of the two week deadline. "We need to move this along."
He hung up soon after, returning his attention to Dr. Brennan. "Sorry about that."
"You mentioned conditions?"
"Oh, yes." Cullen focused his attention on Brennan. "The media was all over this case a month or so ago, and their local news still is. The thing is, they're hoping the killer may return to the burial location, so no one wants it to get out that they've found it. At all."
"Meaning…?"
"Meaning this is strictly need to know. Don't reveal any specifics on where you're going, not even to your coworkers. I've cleared your time with Dr. Saroyan already. We'd also prefer communications be kept limited while you're there. If you need to send anything for consultation with your own lab, send it here and we'll make sure they get it."
"Fine." Brennan agreed quickly; he'd just made the situation much easier. If she told Angela what she was doing, she would panic.
"And we're sending Perotta with you. If you're planning on assisting with the investigation we want one of our own there with you."
In a slightly more reluctant tone, Brennan agreed, "Alright. When do I leave?"
"Tomorrow morning too soon?"
Brennan was quiet for a moment, then answered, "Tomorrow morning is fine. For how long?"
"Well, there's no way of predicting it, of course, if you'd like to help investigate. But it's a long standing case, so there's every chance nothing will happen. A certain amount is up to you, but if I were to guess…" Cullen hesitated. He felt slightly guilty, now, sending her away when it was possible Booth could be returning at anytime. He thought of the deal he'd struck with Booth. "…how about you give them about two weeks?"
~(B*B)~
Booth hadn't been in such high spirits the whole time he'd been here.
Reynolds had been spotted. It was real, the false rumor had worked.
And they were planning, really planning the final stage of the plan. The final stage.
It could be over even sooner than Cullen's two week deadline.
He started planning what he would do.
Go to Rebecca's. See Parker. Hold him. Throw a football around. Let him show every piece of homework or artwork he'd brought home from school in the past month.
Go see Bones. Hug her, tighter and longer than any 'guy hug' would really be. Tell her how much he'd missed her. Apologize for putting her in such a bad position. Let her vent, or yell, or whatever she needed to. Apologize again. Take her to the diner. Have pie. THEN ask her why the hell she hadn't called.
~(B*B)~
"Absolutely not."
"Angela, it's already done. There's no point in arguing," Brennan stated wearily.
They were standing in her office, minutes after she'd announced to the team that she'd be taking a few weeks to go out of town and help with a long standing FBI case.
"You can't do this to me, Brennan!" Angela was on the verge of tears. "You cannot leave town to some undisclosed location to help with some undisclosed FBI business! Not now. Not after what happened on Wednesday."
"Nothing happened, Angela! I fell rappelling because I was being careless, and then passed out because I took painkillers on an empty stomach. That is all."
"You were purposefully careless rappelling, and you passed out right after you sliced your wrist with a knife!"
"It was an accident," Brennan retorted, avoiding Angela's gaze.
Her voice shaking, Angela said fiercely, "You are in no condition to go off on some secret mission for the FBI!"
"That's ridiculous," Brennan replied briskly, purposefully misunderstanding. "A concussion has no long term ramifications, and my stitches will be out in a few days."
"I'm not talking about physical condition. I mean emotional," Angela bit out. "You are a mess, Brennan! You're living in a dead guys apartment, you're falling apart in the middle of shopping malls. Don't think I don't know what this trip is about. You told me yourself you weren't interested in field duty anymore, that it would hurt too much to have a partner besides Booth, and all of sudden you're interested again? And now you're flying God knows where to help with some highly sensitive case? You are literally trying to get yourself killed! And I am supposed to be watching you to make sure that doesn't happen-"
Brennan, who had been listening tiredly to her best friend's tirade, suddenly interrupted, "What? Who says you're supposed to be watching me?"
"Sweets," Angela replied instantly, too terrified and angry to censor herself. "He said the best thing I can do to make sure you don't do something stupid is to keep an eye on you, and keep you from doing something like the rappelling incident again-"
"You talked to Sweets about this?" In contrast to Angela's borderline hysterical tone, Brennan spoke slowly and deliberately, each syllable practically vibrating with anger.
Angela's voice faltered momentarily. "I-well, yeah. I was worried about you, and I wanted to know how to help…"
"You went to Sweets, my former therapist, and told him about what happened in the mountains? Even though I told you not to tell, and I quote, 'Cam or anyone' about it."
"I didn't tell him about the wrist thing. I thought that's all you meant."
Losing the calm tone a little, Brennan shot back heatedly, "No, I meant all of it. What the hell, Angela? What gives you the right to go behind my back and consult a psychologist, which you know I hate?"
Her own anger returning, Angela shot back, "God, I don't know. How about the fact that I am terrified, Brennan?! How about the fact that I had to see you falling down a mountain, or bleeding from your wrist and passing out? That I can't stop seeing it? Or maybe it's the fact that you refused to give me a straight answer when I confronted you with the fact that you seem awfully keen to fucking die. I needed advice. You need help, and if you won't go for it yourself, I was trying to do it for you before you end up dead."
Brennan's eyes widened. "So you went to Sweets and told him I am suicidal? Is that really what you think of me?"
"I don't know what to think! It's been a month, and you're getting worse, not better! And I know what it's like to lose someone, I do. You were there, Bren, when Kirk died, and you helped me through it. You told me I'd have another chance with someone else. And, yeah, there were times when it hurt so much. But I got through it without throwing myself off mountains or cutting my wrists open, acting like some melodramatic teenager!"
Angela regretted the words instantly; Brennan flinched, and took an actual step back, as though the words were filling the space between them. Her voice barely a whisper, she repeated, "Melodramatic?" Then, louder. "Melodramatic?! Booth is dead. He died when I should have! Because of me. And I loved him and never said it. How dare you even attempt to draw a comparison? Because if Booth had loved me, I wouldn't have wanted him three weeks a year. I'd want him every fucking day. And we had spent nearly every day together for three years. He was everything, Angela. He was my family, my best friend, the most important person…" Her voice hitched; tears were streaming down her face, and Angela's too. "And it hurts so much. All the time. I am barely breathing. I'm not living, not really. And when I think about getting through another month, another year, even more than that without him? I don't know that I can do that. And that is what's terrifying. I'm dying, Angela. I've been dying since she pulled that trigger, and maybe I do wish something would just hurry up and finish it already."
Angela was sobbing hard now, too hard to even choke out an apology, or a protest. Swallowing her own sobs, Brennan continued, "And so now I am going. And I don't need you trying to fix me. I don't need you running to Sweets, or to my father or to whoever else you've told. And I'm not allowed to communicate much, so I won't be calling. You say you've spent half your life worrying about me, maybe you should take this as a chance to be rid of the burden," Brennan finished, her voice finally cracking.
Leaving Angela sobbing in front of her desk, Brennan turned and hurried out of her office.
~(B*B)~
Brennan packed quickly. She didn't even have to home; enough of her stuff had made its way to Booth's apartment. She took a couple of her favorite photos, along with Jasper and Brainy Smurf and a few of Booth's shirts.
Then, she left; she had a feeling it wouldn't be long before Angela showed up, and Brennan wasn't ready to see her.
At first, she had just been angry and humiliated that Angela had told Sweets so much. Not only about what had happened Wednesday, but about the things they'd talked about, maybe every conversation since the funeral. And was it only Sweets? Brennan had assumed, from the way Hodgins talked, that she had been sharing a certain amount with her fiancée, but was that all? How much had she told Max, to get him to rush over the way he did?
Brennan wasn't much for talking about her feelings, and when she did, there were two people she trusted with secrets and honesty. But Booth was gone, and Angela…well, Angela had done this.
Then there was the rest of it. The melodramatic comment, the comparison to Kirk's death…As understanding as Angela had been, she thought Brennan was weak.
And there was still a voice inside Brennan's head, the rational, objective voice, that agreed with Angela whole heartedly.
And everyone knew. They all knew how weak she was. Hodgins, her father, Sweets, even her best friend.
If Booth were there, he would agree.
~(B*B)~
Moments after Brennan stumbled past the rest of them in tears, Hodgins, completely bewildered, went into the anthropologist's office to find his fiancée standing in the middle of the room, her face in her hands, crying her heart out.
"Angie…" Hodgins gently took her elbow and led her to the couch, where she collapsed against him, crying harder. "Ssh, baby….Angela, don't cry so hard, alright? Just tell me what happened."
Sniffling, her sobs finally lessening, Angela choked out, "I messed up, Jack."
"Hey, c'mon…" Jack cupped Angela's cheek with his palm, gently turning her to meet his gaze. "What happened, babe?"
"We…we had a fight and, and I…" Her voice broke. "I shouldn't…I shouldn't have gone to Sweets. She trusted me…"
"You were worried about her," Hodgins said gently.
"And I made it sound like I think she's being pathetic about Booth."
Surprised by this, Jack started to shake his head. "I'm sure you didn't-"
"I compared her to a m-melodramatic teenager," Angela wailed.
Stiffening a little, Hodgins exhaled slowly. "Oh…"
The brief flash of judgment on her fiancée's face made Angela's sobs redouble. "I know, I-I was horrible! I compared it to Kirk dying, when it's really not the same thing, and, and Brennan…Brennan said since I've been w-worrying about her half my life I should be glad to be rid of the burden!" Angela covered her face with her hands, and Hodgins wrapped his arms around her immediately.
"Heeey, sssh. It's gonna be okay, Ange. It's alright, come on…she didn't mean that, and you didn't mean what you said, either. It was a fight. Best friends have fights sometimes."
Shaking her head against his chest, Angela whimpered, "No, Bren and I….we don't fight, not like this." She drew back from his embrace, looking at him, her eyes anguished. "You don't understand, Jack, if…if I made her feel like a burden….of course I worry, Jack, but it's not…it's not her fault, it isn't. It's not her fault that when we met she had a foster father who liked to beat and rape her, and once she didn't show up at school and I called the police, and they found her in the trunk of car, and she'd been there for two days and she was nearly dead…"
Hodgins eyes had widened to almost comical proportions, but he didn't interrupt. He thought, briefly, of himself and Brennan, trapped in that car, and his stomach lurched unpleasantly.
"…and it's not her fault Booth died and of course she's messed up because of it, and now she's leaving tomorrow to do something dangerous with the FBI-"
"Hey, hey, hey. Stop for a second, Angie, alright?" Jack lightly brushed his thumb over her cheeks, wiping her tears. "Just go apologize."
"She won't be there. I know Bren, she'll have run off…" Angela's face crumpled. "She leaves in the morning, and she said…she said they told her no communication."
Jack stood up, extending a hand. "Then we'll find her."
A/N: So this was another short one, but clearly it's pretty important, setting up the next part of the story. A lot of this one WAS set-up (Booth's mission has an end in sight, but Brennan's starting one of her own), but another thing I love about it was the Brennan and Angela fight. I've loved incorporating their friendship into this story, and for me, that fight was a very important moment.
So I'm interested in seeing what you thought about their fight, as well as the new developments for Brennan and Booth. Oh, and fun fact…when I wrote it, I never even realized the end of the previous chapter was a total mislead, suggesting that maybe Cullen was going to tell her the truth. I only noticed when I went back to edit. But I never intended Bren to find out that way. To know how I do intend for her to find out…well, stay tuned.
Oh, and REVIEW.
