Hello again everybody. Happy New Year!

The past weeks were pretty busy and this fanfiction had to wait for an update pretty long... my apologies. Thanks for your reviews, people!!! Okay, here we go, this chapter is Brennan's point of view.


Chapter 9:

Brennan woke when she heard a noise. It was caused by something metallic. She blinked and forced her eyes open. Her back and her head hurt... The first was explained by her position: she had fallen asleep at the table, her head resting on the wood. The second had to be caused by the drug her kidnapper had used. The Collector. So, it had not just been a nightmare.

She swallowed hard and remembered the noise that had caused her to wake up. Metallic. The door. She saw that the small slit at eye level was opened and that light shone through it. Somebody was standing there, watching her. It had to be him. She swallowed again.

"Dr. Brennan. Have you enjoyed your stay so far?" The voice, the deep, full timbre of a man, dripped of sarcasm. She closed her eyes briefly and decided not to answer, fighting down the urge to yell at him. She depended on him now... infuriating him would not expand her lifespan.

"Not very talkative, are we? So, Dr. Brennan, I see you already used all your water... you must be thirsty..."

He was mocking her with his all too gentleman-like words, but she did not respond. She was indeed thirsty, but she was not going to beg for water. He was not going to break her will.

"Listen, Dr. Brennan... this room is the... welcome suite. Every new collectible woke up in this room... it's not overflowing with luxury as you may have noticed. You might want to get an upgrade, but more comfort requires obedience, my dear Dr. Brennan... You understand?" His voice filled the room.

She nodded slowly, sitting on the edge of the chair.

"Good. How nice to see we understand each other. First of all, I am going to call you doc from now... it's much shorter than Doctor Brennan or Temperance... Okay, doc?" She nodded again, this time more firmly.

She did not mind that he gave her a nickname... to be honest, she was glad he was not calling her by her given name. Only few people did that and she did not want to get her name tainted by that bastard using it.

"Good, Doc. You are going to call me master. Understood?" The voice asked, still smooth and filled with false gentleness.

She forced herself to nod again.

"You are going to answer properly, with a 'Yes, master!' " His voice had lost some of the velvet gentleness and she only hesitated for a second before she steadily repeated. "Yes, master."

The words left an ashen taste on her tongue and the sound of them was disgusting... but she had to play the game, act as if she was submissive... she had to give Booth and her team time to find her. 'You are playing a role... just acting... this is not you.' She told herself over and over again, clenching her fists.

"Good." The Collector's voice was all gentle again. "Now, Doc, I can move you to a room with a bed and a toilet... if you are a good girl and tell me all about how much you know about me... how much the FBI has found out already about The Collector."

She shook her head. She was not ready to admit to him, how little information they had... and not ready to admit to herself how desperate and hopeless her situation really was. Not yet.

"No? Well, then you better get accustomed to this room, Doc." The Collector spat out. "I am going to ask you again tomorrow, maybe you changed your mind until then."

She heard how he furiously slammed the slit shut. A moment later the bigger opening in the door was unlocked and a gloved hand tossed another bottle of water into her cell. It rolled a few feet towards her until it stopped. Her eyes widened in surprise... he provided her with water, even though she had not obeyed him?

Then she looked around in her room and understood. He was going to give her enough water... so that in a few hours she was going to have to pee... Something she would not do, because she would have to use a corner of her cell... which was...pretty disgusting. He was going to wait until the promise of a room with a toilet and a bed would sound compelling enough to her to tell him all she knew.

The dry feeling in her mouth remembered her, that she was thirsty because of the drug he had given her. She had no choice... she had to drink something... Slowly she rose and cursed when she felt a sudden pain radiating from her thigh, reminding her of her injury. Hesitantly she opened the bottle and took a big gulp of water. What was she going to do now? Sooner or later she would have to tell him about the investigations... he would torture her to get her to talk. She shuddered, when she recalled the broken bones and injuries of the women they had already found.

She had no illusions about her resistance... she knew that at some point of pain or torture everybody started to talk. So, she decided, that she would start to tell him about where they had found the bodies and when... things he would know already from the newspapers... the state of decomposition... she would drag out the reports on her work as long as possible... the names of the missing women...maybe she could pass a few days like that without getting hurt by him. Maybe not. It was as good a chance as any.

She tried to recall as many details as possible on the first few bodies... where they had found them, what kind of wounds they had had.

She was in the middle of recalling the details on the second scene, when she heard muffled screams again. Brennan briefly closed her eyes and tried to ignore the screams as good as possible. After all, she could not help the poor woman. She could not even help herself.


Okay, please let me know, what you think... thanks a lot!