See? I told you I'd get the next chapter sooner than the previous two and I kept to my word! Here is chapter seven and its long. I hope you enjoy. Please, review. Thankies. ^-^
Chapter Seven: Twisted Sickness
"Now what?" Rachelle asked to the other two. "Our so-called bomber is now the victim? So who's the real bomber?"
"That's a really good question, kid." Booth sighed. He rested his fists on his hips. "I suppose we contact Masruk's wife and tell her the "good" news."
"I agree. That's a good place to start from." Brennan concurred.
"Okay." Rachelle nodded.
And that is exactly what they did. Sahar Masruk came in good time and the three broke the news to her. She went on a rant on how she had had told them that Hamid had been the victim, but they hadn't believed her. Sahar also accused them of discrimination, which Brennan corrected by saying it was only natural because of what happened on 9/11. Booth scolded Brennan, but Sahar reassured him that honesty was welcomed. As well, Sahar admitted to arguing with her husband before the explosion and she felt terrible about it. Booth, Brennan, and Rachelle comforted her with the usual words of saying they would do all they could.
Either way, Booth, Brennan, and Rachelle had gotten that out of the way and Sahar thanked them gratefully—despite her tad annoyance towards them—before leaving. When she had, Booth muttered aloud, "I think she's having an affair personally." That caused the women to turn to him.
"What makes you say that, Seeley?" Rachelle inquired for the both of them.
"Well, think about it," he began as the three filed out of the interrogation room. "She goes to a gym, got a Botox injection, and she seems really guilty about the confrontation the two had before his death."
His student scratched the back of her neck while they entered the elevator. "Now, that you point that out, that makes a whole lot of sense. Wonder who her boyfriend is then…"
"Good question." Booth nodded.
"Wait a minute," Brennan spoke up for the first time since Sahar left. The FBI employees looked to her. "How can you two just jump to a conclusion like that? There's no evidence of such."
"We don't need it. The clues are all there, Bones." argued Booth while they exited the elevator and headed out of the building to his SUV in the parking lot. "Lunch anyone?" he suggested.
"Yes, please. I'm starving." Rachelle raised her hand, jumping into the backseat.
"But you need evidence. You can't just assume things like that." Brennan said from the passenger seat.
Booth drove towards his favorite restaurant. "Relax, Bones. It's a gut feeling."
"That doesn't mean anything." she said in rebuttal.
Booth and Brennan began arguing…again. Rolling her light eyes, Rachelle sighed deeply and sunk in her seat. Here they go again. They're like an f-ing married couple…, she thought, staring up at the ceiling. Deciding to not listen to the two bicker at the way to the restaurant, the blonde girl fished through her messenger bag and pulled out her metallic lime green iPod.
The three finally reached the restaurant and Booth and Brennan still hadn't stopped arguing about whether or not Sahar was having an affair. Rachelle chose to ignore them, especially since she was going to get food. However, just as she was about to enter the building with the other two, her cell phone went off.
Who could be calling me?, she wondered yet, pulled out her phone, told Booth and Brennan she'd catch up with them inside—though they didn't quite hear her over the arguing—and stayed outside to answer. The twenty-two-year-old flipped open the technology and placed it to her ear.
"Buenos dias. Rachelle Cornwell speaking." she answered, brushing her long bangs from her pale face.
"Hey, baby. Long time no talk." came a familiar voice that made the woman's heart skip a beat.
"Ashe?" Rachelle asked, sounding hopeful.
"Who else, silly?" he chuckled affectionately on the other end.
"Ashe! It's been so long. How are things? Are you eating well? Has work been hard? How's the weather up there?" she questioned quickly, excitedly as she leaned her back against the brick wall.
"Rach, calm down, babe. I can't answer everything at once." Ashe laughed at her energy.
Rachelle flushed embarrassed, twirling her free index finger in a lock of hair. "Sorry. I'm just so happy to hear from you. It's been so long. I've missed you, luvie."
"I've missed you, too." the young man said gently making the butterflies in her stomach flutter. "Things have been good. Kind of tedious watching the same criminals every day, especially in this ridiculously cold weather, but I can't really complain; I chose to work here. Otherwise, things have been great." Suddenly, Rachelle heard another male in the background shout "Hi, Rachelle!" causing Ashe to say, "Oh, and Paul says "hi"."
She guffawed. "Yeah, I heard. Tell that moron I say "hi" back."
She heard her boyfriend say her greetings back to their friend before returning his attention back to her, "So how have things been on your end, Rach?" And added for good measure in a joking tone, "Have you been eating well? Has work been hard? How's the weather down there?" Rachelle laughed a little.
"I'm eating just fine. You know me, always eating like a pig and never gaining a pound." she began making her lover laugh on the other end. She went on, a huge grin on her face, "Work has been interesting. I'm finally getting to do field work unlike the other interns."
"That's awesome." Ashe commented.
"Mmhm," Rachelle nodded. "And the weather is just fine. Fall is soon approaching. Anyway, when are you coming down to visit me?"
"I don't know. Works not crazy or anything, but we don't have a lot of guards here. I could try to come down for Thanksgiving, but that's a big maybe." he admitted, sounding regrettable.
The blonde frowned deeply. "But, I really want to see you, Ashe. It's almost been two months." She tried sounding seductive—something she wasn't particularly good at, especially when she was in public surrounded by people, "My bed has been so lonely without you, love." She blushed furiously, her eyes dancing from place to place on the sidewalk hoping no one had heard her.
She heard snickers coming from Ashe making her face become redder. However, she couldn't help a smile when the twenty-six-year-old said while laughing, "You are so adorable. I could only imagine your bright red face as you said that while trying to avoid eye-contact with anyone walking by."
"You're such an ass, Ashe." she muttered yet, her voice had very little bite to it.
"Yeah, but I'm your ass and you love it and me." he teased.
"I do love you, honey."
"I know and I love you, too, Rachelle."
"So then come down here and visit me."
"…I'll try, sweetie, I'll try. Just be patient."
"Okay." she responded reluctantly. Rachelle was a patient person, but this long distance relationship and Ashe's absence was driving the poor girl insane.
"That's my girl. Now, I gotta go." he said, sounding very distracted suddenly.
"…Oh, all right. Will you call again tomorrow or do you want me to call you?" the blonde queried.
"Nah. I'm gonna really busy tomorrow with a new prisoner. I'll try calling you next week maybe." Ashe replied, sounding detached as well.
Rachelle frowned. Maybe…? He always says that…, she thought sadly. Nonetheless, she tried sounding happy, "Okay. Bye. I love you."
"Love ya, too. Bye." With that, he hung up. Rachelle hung up as well and sighed, closing her phone and putting it in her bag.
Rachelle raised her now dark forest green eyes to the graying sky feeling crestfallen and a little bit lonely. She felt sick almost. She always felt that way after Ashe called. She loved the young man, there was no doubt, but for some reason recently, she was starting to doubt his feelings for her. Yeah, he called and visited yet, those times were so rare and few. And near the end of Ashe's calls and visits, Rachelle felt him pulling away. He would just suddenly become cold and distant. Maybe it was just all in her mind. However, that's how it seemed to be going. Maybe the flame in their relationship of four years was starting to die out, but how or why could that be?
She sighed deeply and hung her head.
"Rachelle?"
"Huh?" The blonde girl jumped startled—snapping out of her thoughts—and whipped her head around to see Brennan standing there. Becoming flustered, Rachelle cleared throat and regained her composure. She feigned a bright smile. "Yes, Dr. Brennan? Is everything alright?"
Brennan brows furrowed. "For some reason, I feel like I should be asking you that, Rachelle. You seemed distraught." she claimed.
"Oh. No. I'm fine. Just thinking. No biggie." Rachelle chuckled, a bit anxiously, while her index twirled a strand of her hair.
"If you're sure." Brennan said hesitantly. Like Zack, she wasn't good with understanding people's emotions too well, but since she began working with Booth and Rachelle, Brennan started to feel like she wanted to learn such a valuable trait. She just wished it wasn't so confusing—like right now.
Rachelle nodded and smiled softly that time; she appreciated that Brennan seemed to care about her wellbeing. "I'm sure, but thanks for asking, Dr. Brennan. Now, why are you out here? Seeley piss ya off or something?" she asked.
Brennan scowled. "Yes, you could say that. I just don't fathom how he could just jump to such a conclusion as Mrs. Masruk having an affair. He has no evidence to base it on yet, he seems so confident. And Angela agrees with him." she explained, sighing in frustration.
"It's best to just ride it out." Rachelle said.
"I'm not sure what that means." Brennan admitted.
"In other words, it's best to let Seeley think what he thinks. More often than not, he's right. Just like how you get answers from facts and science, Seeley gets his answers from his gut and his instincts." clarified Rachelle, tucking her hands into her jeans' pockets.
"Hmmm. I see." Brennan contemplated. Her bright orbs glanced back to the shorter and younger female. "Well, I appreciate your advice, Rachelle. I will make sure to take that into consideration the next time we have a disagreement."
A chuckle emitted from Rachelle. "You do that, Dr. Brennan."
"Right," Brennan nodded. "I have to return to the lab now to hopefully give us some leads as to Masruk's condition and his murderer."
"Okay. Call us when you figure anything out." Rachelle said.
"Will do."
With that, Brennan left and went off towards the Jeffersonian. When Rachelle couldn't see the woman's back anymore, her stomach growled reminding her of how hungry she was. Laughing at herself, Rachelle went inside the restaurant order some food and join Booth and Angela.
~*--*~
As it seemed, Hamid and his brother, Farid shared an illness. That was obvious from the particulates and from Farid's facial deformity. However, everyone thought there was something more to the illness, especially the squints, as there appeared to be some sort of gypsum from a dioxin emitted from the bomb. That being, Brennan, Booth, and Rachelle decided to pay Farid a visit at his home hoping to get some insight. Unfortunately, they didn't get much as Farid didn't know what his illness was either and was grateful that they were offering him help. What Booth, Brennan, and Rachelle did learn, though, was that Sahar, Hamd's wife, was indeed having an affair and that Farid was a Christian—something that Hamid and Sahar did not particularly agree with.
It wasn't much, but it was a start. A start that they were going to run as far as they could with.
Starting with investigating Sahar's lover, Mr. Ali Ladjavardi.
Needless to say, that did not end too well. As it seemed, Mr. Ladjavardi was a mole for Homeland Security and if Booth had continued with the interrogation, the secrecy of his identity might've been blown as Agent Santana so angrily put it and if Booth went near Ladjavardi ever again, he'd be in serious trouble. That caused Booth to get angry yet, he couldn't say anything. Not that he needed to, it was clear to Brennan and Rachelle how Booth felt. Thus, Rachelle decided to stay quiet as she sat in the back seat of the SUV not wanting to anger her mentor further. Nevertheless, Brennan didn't do as such since she was the type of person to say whatever was on her mind and that is exactly what she did.
"Do you want me to drive? You're angry and its controlling you, you're going to kill someone as this rate." Brennan said.
"I'm not angry," Booth seethed through his teeth, his knuckles white from clenching the steering wheel so hard. "You don't want to see me when I'm angry."
"Like you are now?" Rachelle whispered under her breath as she gazed out the window. She didn't expect him to hear her, but he had.
"Shut up, Rachelle May." he retorted, shooting her a heated look through the rearview mirror. "I am not angry."
She deadpanned, saying nothing else—at least not out loud. Yeah, and using my middle name is a great example of how angry you aren't., the intern thought dryly.
"Don't take your anger out on Rachelle. She didn't do anything, Booth." Brennan scolded, coming to the younger woman's defense. "We understand where you're coming from. We keep coming up dry, but there's no need to give up and get emotional about it."
Booth rolled his eyes and tried controlling his breathing before saying, "Can we talk about something else?"
"Fine. How about Tessa?" Brennan suggested dully.
Oh, god. Don't go there, Doc., Rachelle made a face.
"Wha-Why? No! We will not talk about her." Booth quipped skeptically.
"Why not? We discussed this before. Sexual relationships are necessary for a well-built society." Brennan pointed out.
"Again with this…" he groaned. "What is your fixation with Tessa? Is it so hard to believe that I have someone special in my life?"
"No. Did I say that?" she said. "I think it's interesting. Humans' interactions with one another are a fascinating thing. Like Mrs. Masruk's affair."
"You make it sound like it's a good thing. Sahar very well could've killed her husband and you're saying her affair is interesting?"
"How is Mrs. Masruk a suspect just because she had an affair?"
"Probably to protect Ladjavardi. If Hamid found out about him, he could've blown his cover to get revenge. Thus, Sahar killed him in order to avoid such an incident."
"Where's the proof?"
Rachelle officially wanted to bang her head against a wall at that point—the conversation was going in circles and it was driving her mad.
"I'm just making a guess, Bones. We in the FBI do that, we look at all of the angles in hopes of finding the right one." Booth stated.
"Okay. Fine. Then, how about this for an angle, hypothetically speaking? What if Tessa was sleeping with someone else and--" Brennan began.
"Whoa. Wait a minute. That would never happen." Booth cut in quickly.
"I'm just saying hypothetically." Brennan reassured. She continued with what she was originally saying, "What if Tessa was sleeping with someone else and you found out. In result, she decides to protect her other lover and blow you up. Is that just?"
Groaning, Booth rolled his dark eyes. "No, of course not. That's no reason to kill anyone at all." he grumbled.
"Exactly." Brennan said proudly.
"Can we not talk about this either?" Booth said, almost pleadingly. "Speaking hypothetically about a murder and making a guess about certain clues are two different things."
"Right because you were a sniper, so you'd know all about killing, right?" snapped Brennan, sighing deeply.
Rachelle grimaced seeing Booth's face grow graver than it already was. Oooh. Bad move, Dr. Brennan.
"Maybe we should just not talk at all." Booth said angrily.
"Fine. Right. Because you're angry." Brennan huffed with a roll of her eyes.
"I'm not--" he stopped himself. "Why don't we talk about your boyfriend?"
"I don't have a boyfriend." smirked Brennan.
"You make it sound like it's a good thing."
"Because it is. Such relationship, despite necessary for society, is too complicated."
"That's ridiculous. Even the kid back there is in a relationship."
"Do not bring me into this twisted argument of yours, Seeley. For once, I'm happy keeping my mouth shut." Rachelle said.
~*--*~
Fortunately, mostly to Rachelle, Booth and Brennan decided to work separately for a little while. Booth and Rachelle would go look up Hamid and Farid's medical histories while Brennan tried figure out the exact materials in the dioxin left from the bomb with the other squints. So Rachelle was searching the web on anything on her laptop, which was perched on her crossed ankles as she sat Indian-styled on a chair. Booth was across from her, behind his desk, on his computer searching the web for any information as well.
"Find anything, kid?" Booth asked, his eyes never leaving the computer screen.
"Not yet," she shook her head making her shoulder-length lock swish about her face—she had let her hair down since she wasn't out on the field at the moment. "And don't call me "kid", Seeley. How about on your end?"
"Don't call me "Seeley". And I've found nothing yet either." Booth retorted gruffly.
"You don't think it would be this hard. We've been at it for nearly half an hour. Since Hamid worked for the government, I figured it would be easier to find his and his brother's condition." Rachelle stated, resting her chin in her palm.
"Yeah," he said. Then, he completely changed the subject, "So you never told me what was bothering you earlier before this case even started."
Raising her now yellow/green eyes to her teacher, Rachelle gave him an incredulous expression. "You're really going to bring that up now?"
"Yeah, why not? It seemed to really bother you before and you seemed down during lunch so I figured it was still bothering you." he pointed out.
"They don't entirely tie into each other, but it doesn't matter. Nothing I can't handle." Rachelle shrugged dully, returning her attention to her laptop.
"You always say that. C'mon, Rach. You can confide in me." Booth reassured gently, trying to urge her to talk.
"I know I can. You're my mentor; I'm supposed to be able to talk to you easily. However, these issues are petty and I'd rather not burden you with them." his student explained, tapping away at her computer's keyboard.
"Does it have to do with those annoying female interns you hang around sometimes or that boyfriend of yours?"
"…Both."
"Well, for starters, those girls are shallow airheads--"
"Tell me something I don't know."
"And as for that boyfriend of yours--"
"Do you really even want to talk about Ashe? You don't even like him." Rachelle pointed out wryly, looking at the brunet man. She was getting that sick feeling in the pit of her stomach again.
"…I never said that." Booth said hesitantly, avoiding direct eye-contact.
"Like you had to." she scoffed, leaning back in her chair. "The last time Ashe visited, you kept glaring at him and giving him the third degree. You treated him like he was a criminal."
"That's because he is one."
"No, he is not!" She frowned as she paused. "At least not anymore. He's cleaned up. He's a security guard at a jail in Canada now. You know that."
"People don't change that easily, Rachelle. You don't know what he is doing up there. It's not like he calls or comes to see you enough to reassure you that he's doing well."
"That's a low blow, Seeley. I've known Ashe since my first year of college, I trust him. He's changed and for the best, so lay off will ya? And people can change. Maybe not easily, but they can, trust me."
Booth peered to his intern's stubborn and annoyed face indicating he had gone too far. He sighed deeply. "All right, all right. I hear you. I'm sorry. Just stop looking at me like that." he said.
"Good." she gave a nod.
After that, no one said anything else for a while. The two just worked on their computers, searching for anything they could find. Except as time went on, nothing changed. They were finding nothing and that seemed to be the way things were going to stay.
With deep sighs, Booth and Rachelle gave up. They had to go report their findings—or lack of—to Brennan, so they did. They turned off their computers, grabbed their jackets, got into the SUV and headed to the Jeffersonian.
~*--*~
"We couldn't find anything about the Masruks' illness. No medical records of it at all." Booth announced boldly as he and Rachelle stepped onto the platform where the squints were gathered. They all looked to him from a computer they were looking at.
"Looking up the doctor, too, Dr. Brennan?" asked Rachelle, joining the group.
"No. Afraid not." the auburn-haired woman shook her head. "I'm still trying to figure out what is making up the dioxin."
Zack added, glancing to the FBI employees, "We're having a bit of trouble as you can see. If we had the liver, they'd be no problem."
Booth's brows furrowed. "Why I feel like I need a translator when I walk in here?"
"The liver is like a filter. If we still had it, it would tell us what was infecting Hamid and Farid. However, the liver, any other internal organs, and the flesh are completely gone." explained Brennan, standing straight from the computer.
"So then what do we do?" Rachelle asked, looking about the others' faces.
"How about the beetles?" Hodgins suggested. Everyone turned to him. "They would definitely have whatever was infecting Hamid in their systems."
"That's a great idea, Hodgins." smiled Brennan. She headed to the location of the flesh-eating beetles. Booth and Hodgins speedily followed her.
"But, wait--" Zack began frantically, but Rachelle cut him off by grabbing his wrist and pulling him to follow the others, "C'mon, Zacko. Don't lag behind." He started to protest yet, stopped as she dragged him into the same room as the rest of the group.
"So how do we do this?" asked Rachelle once she released Zack and stood next to Booth.
He, Brennan and Hodgins were gathered around the two jars of flesh-eating beetles. Zack when up to the jar and hugged one to himself. "We can't kill them. They have names." he pointed out, a bit of panic in his usually vacant tone. Rachelle stiffened at that information. Wait, we have to kill them?, she thought, taken aback.
"I'm sorry, Zack, but we have to." Brennan said, her voice sympathetic. "At least a few." She reached into the jar he was holding with a gloved hand and dropped some into another jar that Hodgins was holding.
Closing the container he was holding, the curly-haired man smirked at the graduate student across from him. "Y'know, I heard in some countries, they eat these lil' guys by barbequing them and then, put mayonnaise on them. Yum." he teased before leaving to do the "deed". Brennan followed him as Zack's jaw dropped at his co-worker's declaration.
Booth frowned at the entire scenario and went to give the other male a pat on the shoulder in reassurance except he stopped himself. He walked past Zack to walk after the other two. Zack bit his lip and gazed down at the jarred beetles cradled in his arms.
Rachelle had never seen the young man so sad—and was hoping to never see such an emotion on his face ever. It made her chest tighten; it hurt him to see him like that. She wanted to comfort Zack. That being, the fair-headed girl hesitantly called to him, "Z-Zacko?" He didn't reply making her worry. She tried again softly, "Zack?" That time, he looked to her with glassy coffee-colored eyes. She bit her lip. "Are-Are you alright?" she asked in concern. What a stupid question. Of course he's not okay. Just look at him, Rach! He looks like a little boy, who just saw his puppy die., she scolded herself.
Reaching out, she placed a gentle and comforting hand on his arm. "Of course you're not okay. They're your pets. The beetles mean something to you and now they're going to kill a few of them. No one would be okay with that." she said delicately. "I'm so sorry. Is there anything I could do, Zack?"
He said nothing and just stared at her. That was not making the girl feel any better.
"C'mon, Zack, say something. You're starting to worry me here." Rachelle almost pleaded.
"I-I don't…They just can't…They have names and I--" Zack opened his mouth, but no complete sentences would come out. He sighed and hung his head sadly. "I'm sorry, Rachelle. I-It's just they have names. And I don't know how exactly to explain how I feel. I don't want them to kill them, but they have to. I just can't--" All of his words were coming out in a rush and strained; Rachelle was having a difficult time understanding exactly what he was saying.
Then again, it was not like she needed to know what he saying to understand how he was feeling. He was upset and that was all she need to know.
Frowning, Rachelle comfortingly rubbed his arm that she had been holding. She tried smiling. "How about this, after this case is done, I take you out for ice cream?" she offered.
His big eyes looked to her. "I-I don't understand how th-that--"
"I know that won't bring those beetles back, but it may you feel better for a little while. Ice cream always makes me feel better when I'm upset, even if it is just a tiny bit, especially with friends." Rachelle pointed out.
He didn't say anything for a while and just stared at her. The graduate did not know how to respond to such an offer. It was obvious that Rachelle was trying to comfort him, but he didn't know why. To him though, it didn't matter…for some reason. She was being a friend and wanted him to feel better—that was what friends did, right? He felt upset and Rachelle did not want him to be. For some reason unknown to him, that made him feel a tad bit better already. Maybe ice cream with her would make him feel better all together—even if it was just for a moment.
Hesitantly, he choked out, "O-Okay. Th-Thank you, Rachelle. Th-That may help." He attempted at smiling yet, it did not come out right.
Nonetheless, Rachelle grinned lightly. "All right. We'll do that then." She squeezed his arm tenderly then, grabbed his hand. "Now, c'mon. We still have work to do. We have to figure out what the Masruks' sickness is."
"Uh, yes, right." the brunet just gave a stiff nod, steadily regaining his composure. He placed the jar down, putting a lid on it, and allowed Rachelle to guide him out of the room so they could meet up with Booth, Brennan, and Hodgins.
