A/N: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far. I was waiting to post this chapter to see if I could get 80 reviews first but finally decided to post it. I hope you are still interested and are surviving the BONES hiatus intact. Thanks and please review. Still looking to get 10 reviews per chapter!

Chapter 9

April 25, 2010

Location Unknown

9:22 am EST

According to Hodgins' estimation, they had been without oxygen for about an hour and a half now. He could feel the effects already, making him believe that they maybe had a couple of hours of oxygen left at most. While he could mostly still think clearly, he could feel a heaviness in his limbs that he knew was evidence of an anoxic event. The slight tingling in his limbs were a constant reminder of the dilemma they were currently facing, although sometimes during this past crisis, he felt like he was facing it alone. Booth and Brennan had tried to include him in their conversations but he knew that they didn't understand that when they got into one of their little "moods," they communicated everything through their eyes. Hodgins' didn't even know if they didn't realize they were not speaking out loud. It made him smile. Angela had been going on since the very beginning about those two getting together, even when they hated each other. Hodgins couldn't help but see that they had a connection that was outside of their partnership. Hell, it was hard to miss. He looked up from where he had been staring at his hands for the past couple of minutes to look upon the objects of his thoughts. They were sitting together, huddled against the opposite wall. Hodgins doubted they had been more than two feet apart during the entire time they had been in this room. Now, there was barely a hair's breadth between them. Booth sat with his legs stretched out in front of him, absent mindingly rubbing his injured one from time to time. His left arm was around Brennan's shoulder, his hand softly stroking over her biceps whenever it looked like she was going to fall asleep. Even though Hodgins knew that the lack of oxygen was going to affect her more than Brennan falling asleep with a concussion, he also knew that Booth was going to do everything to protect her until they breathed their last breath. Which, Hodgins thought morbidly, would probably be within the next hour or so. If their friends didn't find them first, that is. She was leaning against him and her knees were pulled up into her chest but they were shifted to rest lightly against Booth's thighs. Her head rested in the spot between his shoulder and neck. If Hodgins didn't know better, he could have sworn that they had been lovers for a while; the familiarity of their positions indicated more than "just partners." But even though that is what they always claimed, everyone who knew them knew better, knew that their closeness would someday lead them to something more.

It had been very quiet since the oxygen had shut off. None of them felt the need to say anything. What was there to say? Hodgins couldn't stop thinking, a problem with being a genius. He kept going over all of the possibilities in his head, trying to think of another way to get some more oxygen in the room or even if there was another way to get out of here. He had considered looking to see if they could use the air vent as an escape route but after a quick calculation of their sizes relative to the vent, he quickly ruled that out as a possibility. The only way he figured they could get out of here was if someone took out the door that was currently wielded shut.

He thought about taking the note that he found in his pocket earlier and one of the pens and writing another note. But that just made him depressed and made him think back to the last time he was kidnapped by the Grave Digger. He started to feel the crushing claustrophobia that usually accompanied any thoughts about that incident. He closed his eyes, trying to block it out of his mind but he couldn't stop the shiver through his body.

"Hodgins, are you ok?" Booth asked him. Hodgins cursed under his breath, the hope that his companions didn't notice that moment of weakness suddenly vanishing into the increasingly thinner air of the room. He looked up to see Booth and Brennan looking at him, Brennan looking confused about why Booth was asking the question.

"Yeah, man. Just a little cold," Hodgins said. Booth nodded, even though they both knew it was a lie. If anything, it had become more hot and stuffy in the room since the ventilation had shut off.

"What time is it, Booth?" Hodgins asked, desperately trying to change the subject.

Booth briefly removed his arm to check his watch. Hodgins smiled as he saw Brennan's look of displeasure when she felt Booth's arm lift from around her shoulders. The look, however, quickly disappeared when Booth settled his arm around her once more.

"It's 9:35, Hodgins. We have about 25 minutes until the trial starts up again and we try our little plan," Booth said, voicing their plans out loud. They had decided during the night that at 10 am, when the trial was supposed to start again. If their theory was correct, and the other end of the speaker was attached to the trial judge's microphone, if were going to tap the message "SOS" into their end of the speaker that Hodgins had reverse engineered, hopefully sending the signal that the judge would interpret. Booth would then spell out in Morse code that they were under the courtroom. Now, all of this hinged on the fact that even after they typed the message in, that Judge Brewster remembered enough Morse code from his days in the Navy to interpret them and then send someone to find hem before their oxygen completely ran out. They all thought that this might be a long shot, but they didn't have another option at this point.

It took a lot for Hodgins not to get frustrated at their current situation. Even in the last ten minutes, he could feel the oxygen levels drop further. The tingling in his limbs was more pronounced and he knew that his respiratory rate had increased as well as his lungs were trying to pull as much oxygen into his body as possible to counteract the rising levels of carbon dioxide circulating in his blood. He just hoped that they all were still conscious when it was necessary to send their message.

April 25, 2010

J. Edgar Hoover FBI Building

9:39 am EST

"What do you mean there is nothing more we can do to him?" Angela asked, her voice pitch rising as she spoke. Cam was still seated in Booth's chair behind his desk, silently seething at the computer screen, which still showed Sanders sitting in the chair, smiling smugly. She hadn't felt this angry at the system since her days as a cop in New York City. She looked up at Sweets and Perotta who were still standing in the doorway, looking exhausted from the hour-long interrogation that yielded no information other than their friends no longer had an oxygen supply.

"I'm sorry, Angela," Sweets started. "But Sanders and Taffet both have the same pathology. They want to control the game and don't care about the players, just as long as they achieve their final goal. We are not going to get any more information out of him about the whereabouts of Dr. Hodgins, Dr. Brennan, and Agent Booth."

There was a moment of silence in Booth's office as they absorbed this latest setback in the case. Cam felt like they had all the pieces but for some reason they were unable to put them together in a puzzle that made any sense. She had been around for all the Grave Digger kidnappings that involved her people and she was getting really, really annoyed with them. She was very protective of her people, as a boss and as a friend. And she was sick and tired about having to worry about them getting kidnapped and dying.

"I think we should get over to the courthouse," Cam said, standing and walking toward the door.

"Shouldn't we stay here and see if we can find anything else?" Angela said, the distress becoming clear in her voice. Cam knew that she was having a hard time with this. She had to watch her best friend and her former fiancé be buried alive again and this time, Booth being involved only made it worse.

"I think that Dr. Saroyan is right, Angela. I have a theory that Sanders and Taffet have some sort of psychological connection to the courthouse. Sanders seemed very focused on 'walking out of the courthouse,' so much so that he repeated it several times when we were talking to him," Sweets said. "I think that in order to find something else to help the case, we need to be at the courthouse."

Cam was just about to leave the office when she heard Caroline.

"Come on, Cher. We have a trial to win. I don't intend to intend to let either of these two freaks fly away to some island in the Pacific."

Cam looked towards Sweets and Angela before taking a breath and squaring her shoulders, ready to face whatever else this nightmare of a case was going to throw them.

April 25, 2010

Location Unknown

9:52 am EST

Booth's eyelids felt like that had cement blocks attached to them and he was having a hard time trying to keep them open. He knew that the decreasing oxygen was making him tired and he could feel Bones against him nodding off even more than before. He was desperately and selfishly trying to keep her awake. He didn't think he could live with himself if he felt her fall asleep against him, never to wake up again. He would die with her if that happened. Feeling her head droop against his shoulder again, he rubbed her shoulder with his hand, startling her awake.

"Bones, you need to stay awake," he whispered to her, subtly pulling her closer to his side.

"I'm just so tired, Booth," he heard her say, the exhaustion clear in her voice. The arm that she had draped against his abdomen tightened around him and Booth knew that he would have to keep working to make her stay awake.

"I know, babe," he said, the term of endearment slipping out. "But you need to stay awake for a little while longer. We are almost out of this, Bones. Just please, please stay awake a little longer," Booth told her, not caring about the pleading tone in his voice. He felt Bones pull away from him slightly, just enough to look him in the eyes. In that moment, Booth put everything he felt for her in his expression. He needed to make her understand the depth of his unspoken feelings for her, to make her see his love for her. He would do whatever it takes to keep her alive and out of harms way, even though currently, harm was staring them in the face. As Booth gazed into her eyes, he also saw love, devotion, and caring in them. In that moment, his heart rate increased and Booth knew if had nothing to do with the thinning air around him. He felt her hand leave his stomach and raise up to cradle his cheek in her hand. He leaned into her hand as he felt her thumb tenderly caressed his cheekbone. They were still staring at each other and Booth saw her eyes leave his to drop down to his lips. His tongue involuntarily licked his lips to moisten them and he saw her give him a small smile as she leaned in to lightly touch her lips to his. It was just a whisper, just a fraction of a second, just enough time to get used to the feel of each other's lips, but to Booth, it was a moment of absolute perfection. The feel of her hand against his cheek and her lips against his was something he was never going to forget as long as he lived, not matter how much more time that life contained. As she pulled back, their eyes connected again, communicating all the thoughts that the kiss confirmed and solidifying their love for each other. Giving him one last caress to his cheek, she removed her hand.

"I think it's time Booth," she said. Booth nodded to her and started to get up from their place at the wall to get to the center of the room where the speaker sat. Hodgins looked up and nodded to him as they all huddled around him. He felt Bones put a hand on his back, moving it slightly back and forth to reassure him. Hodgins handed him a quarter, the instrument he would use against the exposed wire.

Booth took a deep breath and started to tap out the message.

. . . _ _ _ . . .

April 25, 2010

Superior Court of the District of Columbia

10:00 am EST

Judge William Brewster took his seat behind the bench, wary of what another day of this trial would bring. He had spent all night wondering if the three key witnesses against the defendant were below ground somewhere, suffocating to death. Now staring out into the gallery of the courtroom that was still standing, waiting for his permission to sit down, he was worried that his suspicions were right when he didn't see the witnesses in the courtroom and their friends looked like they had not slept in 24 hours.

"You may be seated," he said. The courtroom sat down.

"Your honor, I request an immediate mistrial. The prosecution has failed to produce their witnesses and without them, they have no case."

Judge Brewster sighed, knowing this was coming but really not wanting to hear it. He glanced over at the defendant and it made him sick to she the pleased look on her face. He had been a layer for 25 years and a judge for almost 15 and even he had to admit that this one made his stomach turn.

"Ms. Julian? Is he right?" Brewster asked the prosecution. The look Caroline Julian gave him told him everything he needed to know before she even opened her mouth.

"We do no have the witnesses, Your Honor. But that doesn't mean- "

"Ms. Julian, be quiet," Judge Brewster suddenly said, raising his hand to further emphasize his point.

"Excuse me, Your Honor," Ms. Julian said, an offended look crossing her face.

"Does anyone else hear that?" the judge asked. He was hearing a faint tapping noise but couldn't make out where it was coming from. The tapping was very familiar though. He looked out in the gallery, seeing two women and a young man sitting behind Ms. Julian come to the edge to the edge of their seats, clearly interested in what was going on. The courtroom had turned silent, everyone except for Ms. Taffet interested in what was going on. And it was finally quiet enough for Judge Brewster to figure out where the noise was coming from. Picking up the microphone from the desk, he held the base up to his ear. Ignoring the confused looks coming from he gallery, he listened closely to the tapping.

"This is an SOS signal," Judge Brewster announced to the courtroom, looking at the panicked face of Ms. Taffet. "Someone is sending us a distress signal."

A/N 2: So, what did you think? Will they find them in time? Let me know!