*Author's Note*
It has come to my attention that I have taken way to long to update my story, something I was aware of. I just wanted to say sorry to all of my readers! School has started again and I have a very tight schedule. I'm so sorry guys! I got this chapter out today instead of Sunday, when I had planned. I hope you are still with me! Thanks for reading! Enjoy!
Love a very apologetic writer, chesneygirl. 3
"As if She Can Hear Me"
Chapter 10.
"Bones! God dammit, Bones," Booth cried weakly. He didn't know why he was doing this. Most of all he couldn't believe that he actually was doing it at all.
Why the hell am I calling to her? I'm a complete idiot.
He knew he had limited energy. Maybe that was the reason he had yelled for his partner, his best friend. Because he had nothing to live for. Nothing to hold back. Yet his mind was full of regrets. He closed his eyes in defeat.
If I just would have told her...
Here he was. A defenseless weak man. He let the love of his life slip between his hands because he was afraid. Afraid of heartache. None of that mattered to him now. If he just had one more chance, he told himself he would use it.
I yelled for her..I yelled as if she could hear me. He trailed off when he had no reason to stay awake.
XXXXX
Brennan stood with her mouth wide open.
Did this just happen?
She wasn't quite sure. It wouldn't be the first time she hallucinated if that is what this was. Although she had an irking feeling that it wasn't a hallucination.
Todd laid there motionless on the dirty floor. The same floor that Brennan watched as the top half of Booth's key fell to the ground. She stood over him now in awe. It was all a blur to her now. She remembered the call to Angela then the hacksaw-
The hacksaw! She remembered. Something changed inside of her when he cut the key. When he erased any chance of freeing Booth, she lost it. Her rational mind along with every value that was instilled in her. She remembered thinking; Just save Booth.
Recalling any vague memories at that point would have helped. She looked down at the man. The horrible, cynical man who did this to her. Who did this to Booth. Blood covered the floor, not a pool of blood, but more like a stain. She tried thinking back to any hint of an explanation.
What happened!
For a split second she stopped thinking.
Why do I care? Why do I care what happened to this filthy man. Go to Booth.
In no condition to walk down stairs, she looked in the room once more before leaving it and made her way down the twelve stairs. Her mind and her legs seemed to be on different wave lengths. She told herself to walk, to continue on, but her legs told a different story. Feeling like they weighed a ton, she slowly took a step at a time. For Booth. For Booth. With that thought she trudged down the stairs.
XXXXX
Booth gasped as he was awoken from his sleep, if you could call it that. He wasn't sure what had waken him exactly. After a moment of hearing nothing, he rested his head once again on his forearm.
Just a vision. It was just a wish.
He was convinced that was what it was. He'd wished so many times over and over again to hear something. The sound of footsteps, or the creak of a door, in hope that it was his Bones. Letting out a short choppy breath, he closed his eyes.
Seconds later he was alerted again.
What the hell? What is that?
Booth couldn't place the sound at first. It sounded like...like a thud. He tried to take a closer listen, noticing them to be about thirty seconds apart. It sounded exactly like the someone walking down stair steps, very slowly.
Raising his head a little to fast from it's place on his arm, he became disoriented for a moment. When it passed he tried his best yell when the thuds stopped.
"Bones?" He said hoarsely letting out a sigh when he barley let out a whisper.
He needed to try harder. He had to.
"Bones!" This time a little louder and more clearly.
At that point he didn't care if it were Marx. His mind was totally focused on other things than what would happen to him. He didn't care about himself. Not anymore.
After his third attempt to yell, a clicking sound rang in his ears, followed by a ray of light. The door. It was open. Booth's eyes hadn't adjusted to the amount of light that shown through. A figure at the door appeared, then the sound of the closing door, leaving only the ray of light coming in from the small window. Then he saw it. He saw her. Slowing her face came into view as she knelt beside him, her cold handcuffs touching his shoulder, closing his eyes at the feeling.
I'm dreaming, I'm dreaming, He thought to himself.
To him there was no chance of this being real. He thought and hoped for this for as long as he remembered being there, and he'd finally given up on the idea. There was no way this was happening.
This time out loud he cried as he closed his eyes; "It's not her. It's not Bones."
He begged for this torture to stop. Because that's what it was. It was torture to be tempted like this.
"Booth? It's me." She pulled him into a tight hug the best she could.
He wasn't able to accept it. If he opened his eyes and nothing was there...
Her weary voice spoke against his ear.
"Booth, open your eyes. It's me." Urgency made itself present in her voice. He believed her. It was really happening. Slowly he did what she asked.
From there he didn't know what went on. Relief overwhelmed him along with happiness and every other happy emotion at the same time. He could see her face again, at least one more time. So many things he wanted to say. No, he needed to say them. All at once they rushed to the surface.
"Bones, I'm so sorry. Everything I'm feeling I keep inside and I'm sorry for-"
"Booth, Booth," she soothed as she felt his tears against her face.
"We need to get you out of here. Marx isn't-"
"Where is he, Bones?" Frantic filled his voice.
"He's upstairs for now. I..I..don't know what happened. There was blood, but he's not dead. There wasn't enough blood. Just a deep cut on his forehead. Just enough to knock him out. He could wake up, Booth. Come on we have to get you out."
She stopped him a few more times when he tried to complain.
"Booth." Her eyes tested his.
"Go get the gun. He has two since he took mine. I'm guessing he keeps one on the first story somewhere. Find it, Bones and bring it back down here. It's our only way out."
"What am I going to do with a-"
"Trust me?"
She nodded before giving Booth a soft kiss. Unlike every time before, on the lips. She got up as quickly as possible in her condition. Booth was left there, glad she could no longer see him. His cheeks burning, as he couldn't believe what had happened for the second time that day.
XXXXX
Gun, gun. Where the hell is the gun?
Brennan stood panicking as she was unable to find what Booth had told her to.
Look harder! She urged.
Pulling open every cabinet and drawer she was unsuccessful. She had to do something she was very used to doing. She had to think.
Remembering the time Booth had talked to her about his guns, she swore she could hear his voice like he was there speaking them.
"Bones, if you're going to carry a gun you have to have the proper secret hiding spot." He grinned up at her.
"Well where is your secret hiding spot, Booth?"
"It wouldn't be very secret if I told you now would it?"
She laughed at his logical answer.
"But since I like you I'll share my secret with you." He leaned forward to whisper in her ear.
"Never hide your gun under the sink. That's where most people put theirs. Always go for the under the mattress trick." She pulled away when he was finished and smiled.
"I'll keep that in mind."
The sink! She hadn't looked there and she wondered why as she opened the doors to the cabinet.
At first she found nothing. Knocking down bottles and cleaners in the process she searched the small area. About to close the doors to the cabinet, she felt something cold on her hand. She reached back in to the source of the coolness. Just above the door a handgun was taped. Ripping it off the best she could with her handcuffs, she held the gun in her hands. This would get Booth out. She didn't know how, but somehow it would. And for the first time in a long time, she was hopeful.