Disclaimer: Not mine, no profit.
Words cannot express how incredibly lazy I've been. Finding inspiration has been difficult during this dry spell of Bones-ness (Stupid American Idol). Sorry it's taken so long. A special thanks to my wonderful reviewers. Please enjoy. - JF
Chapter 6 – Reopened
The present, Russ Brennan's apartment
"In international news, shots erupted in the streets of Calcutta, India, early this morning in the quiet part of the city. Witnesses claim that the notorious, nameless street gang of Calcutta began firing shots into the air and through the walls of an old nearby hotel, demanding for "the dead Americans". The demand rose international attention because of the questionable deaths of renowned author and forensic anthropologist Doctor Temperance Brennan and her FBI partner Special Agent Seeley Booth a year and a half ago. Doctor Brennan and Agent Booth had been looking into the deaths of a group of American college students who disappeared outside of Calcutta eight years ago when they were reported missing, then dead six weeks later. The FBI claims that Doctor Brennan and Agent Booth were great assets to the Bureau, and because of the street gang's demand, their case has been reopened."
Russ turned off the TV when the Barbie look-a-like anchorwoman moved on to other news. When Tempe and Booth had been reported dead, the media had a field day, and Russ had gotten used to hearing about his sister's death from people who knew nothing about it. Of course they would report on it. Tempe was famous, and Booth was FBI. Russ guessed that the upside to such reports was that he would never have to work again, as Temperance's book sales had skyrocketed and she had left her money and anything her books earned to him.
Picking up the phone, he dialed Angela. He guessed he should make sure she knew the Bureau was opening the case back up.
"Montenegro," she answered.
"Hey, Angela, it's Russ."
"Hey there."
"Um, did you see the news?"
Russ heard her sigh on the other end. "Zack just told me. They're reopening the case. Thanks for calling and making sure I knew. Was that all?"
"Yeah, that was it," Russ said, but thought twice. "Would you like to get a drink after work?"
"I could use a few margaritas, yeah," Angela answered with an audible weariness.
"Great, I'll pick you up at seven."
XXXXX
Jeffersonian Institute
"Hodgins," Dr. Addy called from the doorway of the entomologist's office. When Hodgins looked up, Zack wore a bewildered expression. "The FBI reopened Dr. Brennan and Agent Booth's case; I just thought you should know."
Hodgins let out a sigh, puffing out his cheeks and releasing the air slowly. "Does Angela know?"
"I just told her."
"Do we know why they reopened it?" he asked, scrubbing a hand over his face.
"There's a suspicion that…" Zack paused, unsure of what to say. "They might still be alive…or there was something about they're deaths that was mistaken," he finished quietly, looking down at his feet.
"God, this isn't happening…They're going to interrogate us again, aren't they?"
"They'll most likely assign new and better agents to the case, and there's a high probability that they'll end up disregarding everything that was done previously. The new agents will redo everything."
"Bureaucratic nonsense," Hodgins huffed under his breath. "We saw pictures, we've read the file. We've torn it apart, and found nothing wrong with it. We are the best in the country, and they're redoing the investigation," he spat out angrily.
"Hodgins, there's a slight chance that Dr. Brennan and Agent Booth might not be dead. It seems to me that if there's just that small possibility, then we should help in any way we can to make sure." At Hodgins' glare, Dr. Addy continued. "I believe they're dead, Hodgins. It's the rational explanation. But that doesn't mean I can't hope the world has been wrong. It doesn't mean I can't hope we missed something important."
And with that, the young doctor turned and left.
Hodgins sighed again. Their team had vowed to stay together after they found out about Booth and Brennan, but now, at the chance they might not be dead…now they were going to break apart. He could just feel it in the air. The only problem was, he was pretty sure he was going to be the first to falter. And he hated it.
XXXXX
Zack retreated to his office after telling his colleagues about the FBI reopening the case. He let his legs buckle beneath him, and landed in his chair behind his desk. Leaning his head back, he gave off the millionth sigh of the day, exhausted by the thought of revisiting all that had happened a year and a half ago. Though he was not looking forward to it, he knew how he would deal with it.
He had known how to handle the situation when it came about all those months ago as well, as he had remembered what his old mentor had told him about putting his heart in a box when things struck too close to home. He had done just that, but had been accused of giving off an uncaring air whenever the subject of Booth and Brennan came up. Angela had always done the accusing, so Zack tried his best to stay out of conversations about his old boss and her partner when Angela was involved. And she was getting less and less pleasant and harder and harder to avoid as the months went by.
Dr. Zack Addy always tried to think of Dr. Brennan in the most positive way he could, and never focused too long on the event of her death. He had seen the pictures and had treated it like he had any other case, focusing on the details. To him, her death was not the death of his mentor. It was the death of an unfortunate victim of an angry street gang. Dr. Brennan was not killed, but instead she was simply not coming back. Everything she had taught him, everything she had ever said, lived on. And it was that on which he focused.
What he had told Hodgins was true. He believed that Dr. Brennan and Agent Booth were dead. He had seen the evidence and the case file, expertly organized and complete. Initially, Zack had not wanted to believe it was true—none of them had—and had torn the file apart, looking for something, anything that was wrong. He hadn't found anything, and after a few months, accepted the fact that they weren't coming back.
A knock on the frame of the door to his office tore Zack away from his thoughts. He raised his eyes from where they were glued to his desk, meeting those of Dr. Brennan's replacement at the Jeffersonian. "Dr. Blanche," he greeted, standing up like the gentleman he had learned to be.
"Good evening, Dr. Addy," Dr. Blanche said timidly. "And please, it's Allison."
Zack nodded, but said nothing. He had no intention on making friends with this woman, and had no intention of calling her anything but Dr. Blanche.
At his silence, Dr. Blanche shifted her weight to her other foot. "I came to ask for your second opinion on these files. If you have time…I'd appreciate your expertise." She handed Zack the few files she had, and he sat down with them, opening each one in turn.
"You've been identifying John and Jane Does from Limbo?" Zack asked, looking up at his new colleague with a confused expression.
Dr. Blanch looked down, seemingly unsure of herself. "I was told that the FBI would be giving us cases, but since there hasn't been such an event yet, I thought I might as well make myself useful."
Zack leaned forward, placing his elbows on his desk. "In ten years, just over fifty sets of remains from Limbo have been positively ID'd and sent home. That's approximately five a year. You've been here three days and you've finished six." Zack couldn't help it if he sounded a little bitter, as he was so used to being the overachiever. But now he had some competition.
"I believe the skill I've been given should be used for as much as I can bear. I don't think sitting around and getting used to the Jeffersonian is going to do much for the people in bone storage, or 'Limbo' as you call it. I felt I had nothing better to do with my time." Seeing Zack's expression, Dr. Blanche began to back out of his office. "I'm sorry if I've overstepped my bounds. I can be a bit of a highflyer sometimes."
When she was gone, Zack sighed…again. He guessed he wasn't as appreciative as he could have been. But in his mind, John and Jane Does were what he and Dr. Brennan did when there were no other cases. It was what didn't require much more than just the two of them. And he missed that. He understood that Dr. Blanche was just trying to help. He knew it was irrational to feel like she was invading the lab. She worked there now. It was her lab, too.
Zack looked back down at the files. He supposed the best thing he could do for Dr. Blanche would be to confirm these identities. But he would not do it happily. It was almost as if that was the only sense of control he had left.
Nineteen months earlier, Place unknown, India
"Bones?" Booth asked as she inhaled and the wound itself made a slight hissing sound. "Bones…I see bubbles now…and hissing…" his voice was getting quieter and slightly more panicked as he kept talking. He finally reached just below the point of babbling as Brennan tried to remember back to when she learned how to treat a wound like her own.
"I need…something airtight…duct tape, foil, cellophane…" she managed.
"Airtight? Bones, there's nothing but us in here."
Brennan thought for a minute, then shifted her hips so that she could reach her pocket. When the effort was too much, she let her arm go limp. "Booth, in my pocket there's an evidence bag. Use that."
Booth moved to her side and fished in her pocket for the evidence bag she had thankfully forgotten to put in her other bag. "What do you want me to do with what's in here?" he asked, feeling a few small lumps between the sheets of plastic.
"They're teeth…canines that were detached from a skull…put them in your pocket."
He did as she said and then remembered something when he looked at the evidence bag. He knew this from back in his army days, the required training, but it had been so long… "Bones, I think I remember this, the sucking chest wound thing."
She only grunted in response, her entire body beginning to go limp.
"Bones, stay with me. Please, stay here with me," he nearly begged.
"Tell me…what you know."
"Tape or hold three sides down, right? So that air can get out but not in?"
"Yeah. That's enough for now, do it."
Booth wasted no more time in placing the plastic on her back, using both hands to hold three of the four sides to her bloody skin. The tear in her chest cavity wasn't as big as the ones he had seen in the army training course, so not as much air was getting in and it wasn't as serious as it could have been. But eventually, she'd need medical attention. Preferably sooner than later.
He shifted his weight so he now sat next to Bones, by her head, and he encouraged her to use his legs as a pillow. She accepted the little comfort he had to offer, but then lay silent. When Booth's legs promptly fell asleep, he tried shifting his weight such a miniscule amount so that he wouldn't disturb her, but his efforts were in vain. He had been distracted for a split second and had moved the plastic on her back the tiniest bit.
She hissed in pain, and guilt flooded him. "Sorry," he muttered. He could feel the wound beginning to bleed anew and felt the warm blood getting on his palms and in between his fingers. He sighed in disgust with himself at the now terribly literal idiom.
Now her blood was on his hands.
XXXXX
Ten miles outside of Calcutta, India
Dr. Marie Kantar sat on a rock above the site, looking down at the work that had been done so far. Not much had happened since that first day with Dr. Brennan, since nearly everything had been put on hold to search for them. She took at deep breath and didn't exhale for quite some time as she let her mind wander to things she could do to distract herself. She'd never had anyone she knew kidnapped before, even if she had only spoke with Dr. Brennan and Agent Booth for a short amount of time.
It was disturbing to know that while she dug up people who died seven years ago, two people she knew were on their way to having to be dug up later, and Marie Kantar knew of nothing she could do.
She looked down at her left hand, the beautiful ring gracing her slender finger. She couldn't wait to get back to her fiancée, back in America where these situations didn't feel nearly as hopeless. But as Kantar sat there, staring at the ring that symbolized so much that was to come, she couldn't help but be thankful that it wasn't her who had been kidnapped.
She instantly felt guilty, and knew she had to do something, if only for her conscience's sake.
XXXXX
Place unknown, India
"Americans!" one of the men yelled, jerking Booth to attention. "What was all the ruckus?"
"My partner, she's hurt very badly. She needs to get to a hospital," Booth pleaded, the labored breathing of the woman beside him never filtered from his mind.
He heard the jingle of keys and the creak of the gate opening. Booth sighed in relief. Maybe they weren't all bastards.
The flashlight stung Booth's eyes at first as the man looked at the damage done to Brennan's back. "It's a sucking chest wound. She could get a collapsed lung," Booth explained as the man looked closer. After apparently finishing, the man turned the flashlight to Booth's face. The light was almost blinding.
Suddenly, the man's face was very close to Booth's, so close he could smell the teeth rotting in the man's mouth. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't let her die," the man ordered slowly.
Booth could do nothing but beg. "Please, she hasn't done anything."
The man never backed away. "That seems a lot to me like a reason contradictory to what you want, American."
"She knows a lot more than I do. She might have information I don't know about. The mass grave. I never saw what was there. She did. You let her die and that information dies with her."
"So I can just kill you then? Since you know nothing?"
Booth swallowed hard. "I can guarantee you that if you kill me she'll never talk."
"And if I've been given orders to only keep one of you alive?" the man asked, getting even closer to Booth's face.
"Then kill me," Booth said, as if daring him to try.
The man laughed and sat back. "I'm not authorized to kill you, unfortunately, but I'll be sure to tell one of my superiors that you're willing."
"Please," Booth asked one last time. "Please just help her."
Again, the man was in his face. "No."
Then he was gone, and they were once again left in the dark. Together, but alone.
Good? Bad? Boring? Ugly? Please let me know what you think! I'll try to have chapter 8 up sooner. Bones comes back next week. I hope to get back in the groove then. Thanks. -JF
