Nothing Changes Unless Second A Nightmare

(Working Title: Cathartic Release)

By LizD

Winter 2011

Chapter 7

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"BREN!"

People started rushing out of the club when they heard Booth cry out.

"Get an ambulance."

"Call 911."

"I need something to stop the blood."

"We should get off the street."

"Get those people out of the alley."

"Bren." Booth cried. He pulled her into his arms and cradled her. "Oh God, Bren. Please, God please. Bren." He felt her move in his arms. He looked down and her eyes fluttered open. "You're alive!" He pressed her to him and she cried out. "Where are you hurt?"

"My arm," she groaned. "And my head."

He released her enough to inspect her. She was hit in the arm; a graze by the exiting round. Her head had a lump growing on it. "You must have hit the wall." He looked up at the wall above her. He saw where the round had lodged in the brick. She could have been killed. She would have been killed but for luck. Or was it?

"What happened?" she asked trying to sit up. Then she noticed the blood. "What happened?" she asked again with much more urgency. "Timmy?"

They both looked over at Sullivan. He was dead. The exit wound on his chest was evidence enough.

"Oh No … No … no … what's going on?" She looked at Booth expecting him to have an answer.

Booth was dumb; but he didn't need to find a response. The EMTs arrived with the police. It would be chaos for a while. He would deny witnessing the event. He really didn't see much.

=|=.A.=|=.U.=|=

Booth watched them load Bren up in the ambulance and take her away – it was déjà vu except this time she was conscious. He didn't leave her side and would have forced them to allow him to ride in the ambulance with her but Saroyan had some questions. Booth had no answers. He saw Hannah across the crowd. He had no idea how long she was there, nor did he care. From the look on her face, she must have witnessed enough to know how he felt about Bren. He didn't make eye contact with her. He knew there would be a final scene between them. He would say as little as possible, she would have a lot more to say and then it would be over.

Booth didn't tell Saroyan about the pictures that were sent to him. They were meant for him alone. It was personal. It was someone Booth knew taking revenge on him. He would figure it out.

Wendell came to him when he was standing alone for a moment. "Mr. Booth, some guy gave this to me to give to you." He tried to hand him an envelope.

"Wendell, please."

"The man said it was important – vital was the word he used."

"What man?"

Wendell looked out into the crowd and pointed to a tall man standing in the back. He was wearing a ball cap, sunglasses and an overcoat. Booth really couldn't get a good look at him but he was familiar. The man gave a half salute toward Booth and ducked out of sight. A sick feeling came over Booth. He knew who it was. That salute told him all he needed to know. Booth opened the envelope. There was a note on plain white paper. "One shot, one kill. No mistakes. Paybacks are a bitch, Boothy Boy." He looked back into the crowd but the man was gone. "Broadsky," Booth muttered under his breath. Booth knew what he wanted and why.

Booth was dragged down to the police station again. He was grilled for hours. When Saroyan got information that Sullivan was Bren's ex, she had jealousy as a motive again and no alibi. With three dead all revolving around Booth he was their best person of interest.

"I didn't have anything to do with this," he protested.

"You may not have pulled the trigger, but you're certainly involved. You were a sniper, you have sniper friends. You could have called in a favor to keep your nose clean. I don't know how you did it yet, but I'm not letting you out of here until I know what you know."

Caroline finally came. She asked to speak to Booth in private. He told Caroline about the photos and about the note.

"Did you tell the cops?" Caroline asked.

"No."

"You're withholding evidence, Booth. They can throw you in jail for that."

"They won't be able to catch him. This is between him and me."

She studied him for a moment. "You know who it is," she accused.

Booth nodded but stayed silent.

"So tell me, cheri, so I can start building your defense."

"It's a guy I knew in the Gulf. A sniper."

"I gathered that. Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Ok, say you're right, how about a name and a motive."

"Broadsky, Jacob Broadsky. Motive?" Booth laughed. "I put him in Leavenworth fifteen years ago."

"For what?"

"He killed civilians. He was given a target, but usually took out a few others as well. Once he killed a three year old boy and a baby as they sat in the target's lap."

"Collateral damage?"

"No. He was a crack shot – better than me, better than anyone. He took out the baby first, then the child, and finally the target. It was sadistic. He wanted the target to know that his kids were dead first."

"So what did you do to piss him off?"

"I turned him in. I testified at his trial. I testified at his sentencing."

"And now he's out."

"Apparently."

"And not rehabilitated."

"Apparently not." He turned to Caroline. "He wants me."

"He wants to make you suffer, cheri. He wants you in jail. You go after him, you kill him … he will get that. You don't go after him, you go down for these murders, he gets that too."

"He won't stop, Caroline." He thrust most of the pictures at her. "He's going after Bren. He has been following her for months. He followed her back here to me."

"Why didn't he just kill her before she got home?"

Booth swallowed hard. "He wants me to see her die."

"He tried to kill her today?"

"No, he didn't. If he wanted her dead, she would be dead."

"Is he that good?" Booth nodded. "Why?"

"Because he wants the credit. I didn't know who it was until now. He knows that I know ... and now she is in real danger."

"Let's get some people on this … I know someone at the FBI. They're discrete."

"As discrete as a sledgehammer," he snapped. "Let me handle this."

=|=.A.=|=.U.=|=

Caroline got Booth released again against her better judgment. There was nothing to hang on him. No physical evidence. Booth left and let Caroline deal with Saroyan. He needed to get to Bren.

Bren was still in the ER. The doctor's were concerned that she had lost consciousness. She was waiting for an MRI. Angela was staying with her. She left when Booth walked in.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi," she responded.

"OK?"

She wanted to stay strong but couldn't. She broke down. He sat down on the bed and pulled her into his arms and held her. "I'm sorry," he kept repeating softly into her hair.

She finally calmed herself. "Who's doing this, Booth?" It was rhetorical question. She was surprised when he had an answer.

"His name is Jacob Broadsky."

"Jacob? Jake? Jake Broadsky?"

Booth was confused. "Yeah, he was called Jake."

"I know him. I met him in New Mexico. He was staying near where I was. He was the one who convinced me to come home. He was the one who convinced me that no matter what had gone on between us our marriage was worth saving."

"You talked to him? You talked to him about me?"

"Yes."

"Did you use my name?"

"Yes, no, maybe ... no ... I don't think I did. I don't think I told him my name."

"When did you meet him?"

"I met him about a month ago. He was gentle. He was kind. He seemed to know me so well – know us. We talked several times."

"He was stalking you, Bren." Booth showed her the pictures. "He was using you to get to me."

She was confused. "Why? I don't understand."

Booth told her the history between them. "He will kill you next, Bren. He will kill you in front of me if I can't get to him first."

She looked panicked. "No. You can't."

"He won't kill me Bren. He doesn't want me dead. He wants me to suffer like he did."

"How do you know all this?"

"I know the man. His wife divorced him when he went to prison. She and their son were killed in a home invasion." Booth had struggled with the guilt of that for longer than a decade. He looked at Bren. She looked so weak, so fail, so helpless. "Nothing will happen to you. I promise you that."

He couldn't make that kind of promise any more than he could protect his unborn son from harm. There were things in this world that were beyond a person's control. It was stupid to allow the things you can't control to make you make bad decisions. "Bren, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything. I've been such a fool."

"Don't."

"Please ... let me say this ... let me tell you ... I never stopped loving you, that you're my only strength, my only reason for living. I'm nothing without you. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. I'm sorry I couldn't help you through ... help us through ... I'm sorry."

"Booth, stop. Please stop. You did nothing wrong."

"How can you say that? I trashed our marriage vows. I nearly bankrupt the club. I have been mean and hateful and spiteful."

"We have both made mistakes," she pressed.

Booth's eye caught the picture of Bren and Sullivan on the beach embracing. He looked down. Bren looked over at the pictures and understood what he thought he saw.

"Don't do that Booth. Don't think you know something when you don't. I thought I knew what was best for you and it only brought each of us more pain and heartache. I thought leaving was the best thing I could do for you."

"How could you think that?"

"I knew how much you wanted a child."

"Our child ... I wanted our son ... a child means nothing to me if I lost you."

"I can't give you that ... I can't give you a son."

"I'm sorry for that too. That's my fault."

"Is that what you think?" She was aghast. "You think I blame your for that?"

"You said you would have rather died."

"I was out of my head with drugs and hormones. And I saw that look in your eye. That look that said you lost all you ever wanted."

"No ... I was devastated that I had to be the one to make that decision for you ... I took something from you that could never be replaced."

"You saved my life, Booth," she protested. "I lost our son."

"I never blamed you for that."

"OK, OK ... We have to stop this." She took his hand. "Can we stop ... can we agree to talk to each other? To not assume anything?"

"Yes ... yes." He leaned into her and let his lips touch hers lightly. He felt her lean into him harder. He took her in his arms and held her tightly. "Promise you will never leave me again."

"I promise - to the extent that I can promise, from what I can control, but I can't control everything."

He almost smiled - she was so literal. "Ok." He leaned back to look at her and kissed her again. For the first time in nearly a year he felt that life could be good again. He released his hold on her. She smiled back at him.

"Whatever you do with Broadsky, you're not doing it alone - OK? Check me out of here."

"They need to do an MRI. No chances, OK?"

"Ok." Her eye drifted to the picture of her and Timmy on the beach.

"I'm sorry about Sullivan," Booth said earnestly.

"He didn't deserve to die." She looked up at him. "He was your biggest advocate - our biggest advocate. Told me I was a fool for leaving you. Told me to go home and face the music. Told me that I should ask for your forgiveness and accept nothing less."

"Why did you go to him?"

"I didn't. He found me. Said that he contacted the club and found out that I was gone and came and found me."

"But how did you get to the beach."

"That picture isn't real ... it has been altered. Sully came to see me two weeks ago."

"So you didn't go to him ... you didn't ... I have no right to ask."

"You do and I didn't."

"I'm sorry Bren."

"We need to stop saying that."

"Why did you stay away so long? Why did it take someone from outside to send you home?"

"At first I wanted to come back. I didn't actually leave town for more than a week. When I finally did leave I missed you like crazy. I called you."

"I know, but you never spoke."

"I didn't know what to say. After a while I was too afraid to come back. I knew how angry you would be."

"Did you expect me to follow you? To find you?"

"No, I didn't expect it but if you had, I would have refused you nothing. The longer I was away, the longer I didn't hear from you, I assumed that I was right to leave. I had heard that you moved on."

"Heard? Moved on? With Hannah?" Bren nodded. "I don't love Hannah. She means nothing to me."

"She means something to you Booth; you gave her a bracelet that you bought for me."

He leaned back. "Do you know everything?"

"I keep the books; I know how you spend your money - that is until you started taking it out in cash. I assumed that was why."

"Some things you need to pay cash for," he said sheepishly.

"Max?" Booth nodded. "Why?"

"I just didn't care anymore and he was putting serious pressure on. I figured paying him was easier."

She shook her head. "I'm sorry. I never should have left you alone."

"How did you find out about Hannah?"

"Angela."

"She knew where you were?"

"I left a forwarding address."

"Not with me."

"I left a forwarding address," she repeated implying that he could have found her if he wanted to.

The nurse came into take Bren up to get her MRI. It would take an hour or two. Booth said he would be back. This time he kissed her good bye. He told her he loved her and promised that everything would be OK. She said she believed him, but there was fear behind her eyes. She told him to be careful.