A/N: I'm back! And the good new is that I wrote a lot while I was gone§ Thanks again to you Catherine for your help, and especially for the nurse's speech.

Chapter 10 : White walls and dark dreams

Even without opening her eyes, she immediately was aware of where she was. The annoying sound of beeps was ringing in her head and the recognizable smell filling her nostrils made her slightly sick. She knew that when she'd open her eyes, she'd see these white walls she hated so much. That's why she didn't rush to let her eyelids open. Anyway, she was feeling horrible. Her wrists were aching and she was exhausted. She felt lost when she tried to figure out how long she had possibly remained unconscious. She had certainly lost a huge amount of blood. She barely remembered how she managed to survive. To tell the truth, she did remember his voice. It had seemed so distant to her then, it had sounded like nothing but a trick of her mind. However, she remembered having felt safe again, and warm. Now she began to understand it had not been a dream or something she had imagined. It was confusing, though, and something inside her refused to let her think about it.

There was someone else in the room. It was hard to focus on the voices and what they were saying, but she felt a hand resting on her right one. No matter how, she knew it was Angela's. The voices were low; almost whispers, but she recognized her friend's voice. The other one had to be Jack's. Her friends were here. They were here for her. They had never left her alone. She felt a little more reassured, a little more normal and a little more back to the world of the living. Her chest rose as she took a deep breath before allowing herself to surrender to sleep again.

"She moved Jack. I felt her hand move", Angela's eyes were red and it looked like she hadn't slept in days, which actually was not far from the truth.

"Let her rest, will you? You know she has to", Hodgins said, his arm around her shoulders. "You should rest, too."

"You know I can't do that Jack", she replied with tears in her eyes.

"She knows you're here, she can feel you, I'm sure of this, okay? This is what matters, doesn't it? She'll wake up when she's able to."

Angela nodded slightly and did not resist when he invited her to rest her head on his chest.

She immediately regretted to have let herself slip into darkness again. The white walls were nothing compared to the dark dreams she found herself in. Fears, feelings, and memories mixed in an unbearable nightmare where she lost all sense of time and reality, no longer able to distinguish present from past, truth from dread, sensations from delusion. She now feared what she would experience when she'd open her eyes. Terror or relief, darkness or light, loneliness or safety, she didn't know what was real anymore.

Subconsciously, she desperately searched for the warm, soft hand she had felt or dreamt about holding hers before, and panicked when she didn't find it. She terribly missed the soothing contact. The thought that she could be alone again caused her to grow anxious and made it hard to breathe. She needed to wake up, needed to be sure that this hand hadn't just been a fabrication of her mind. She fought hard to regain consciousness. It was like drowning in a dark ocean, oblivious to what way the surface was, up, down, left, right, and not even knowing if there would be something to cling onto when she'd reach it. But somewhere in her heart, she knew that the struggle was worth it and she was strong enough to succeed.

When she opened her eyes, the light blinded her, forcing her to flutter her eyelashes in order to decrease the intensity of the light. The pain hadn't ceased. She was cold and her brow was wet with sweat. And then she saw her. She stared at her for a long moment, as if she was some kind of mirage or a supernatural apparition. But when she noticed the tears of relief and exhaustion in her eyes, she realised she was no angel or trick of her mind. It was just Angela, just her friend. At this very moment, she understood what the truth was, and what reality was. And she made herself the promise not to fall asleep again.

"Hold my hand please, hold it tight." She had meant to say 'Hey, Angela', but these words had escaped her mouth instead.

A tear rolled down Angela's cheek as she took her friend's hand very carefully and folded hers gently around it. "I thought I'd lost you forever, sweetie…" was all she managed to utter before bursting out in tears.

"I'm going to be fine, Angela. Everything's gonna be all right", she said with a catch in her voice.

Angela lifted her head and wiped the tears from her face. "I should be the one who says that. You're the one who's in this hospital bed yet it's you comforting me!" she said, half-sobbing, half-laughing.

"How long have I been here?" Brennan inquired, trying to keep a neutral tone.

"About thirty-six hours."

Brennan was about to ask another question when a nurse entered the room. She was a tubby, dark-haired woman who made them both think of Caroline, the lawyer. "Glad you've decided to wake up at last. I could run a marathon on thirty-six hours of sleep", she said with a smile on her face as she changed the perfusion. "By now you're gonna eat the old-fashioned way. Now don't you tell this lady any stories that will ruin her appetite. I'll be back with some real food soon."

Lost in her thoughts, Angela observed thoughtfully the nurse's movements and her gaze followed the woman as she walked out of the room.

"How have I gotten in here?"

Angela turned her head towards her friend.

"You... You don't remember?"

Shaking her head, she lied. "No."

"Booth brought you to the hospital. I don't have many details; we didn't have time to talk a lot about it. I don't think he wanted to, anyway... All I'm sure of is that you had already lost a lot of blood...It was short, very short. But he did the right things and didn't lose time. Without him, you'd be dead."

"They haven't caught him yet, have they?"

The question startled Angela. There was a pause before she answered. "You mean, the..." Brennan nodded. "No, they haven't." She said in a small, almost inaudible voice.

"I guess they need me for this, don't they? Since I'm the only one who has... you know... the chance to talk about him."

Again, Angela hesitated before answering, avoiding her friend's gaze. "Yes sweetie, they need you. We need you. We're gonna work on it together as soon as you're..."

She was interrupted by the nurse who returned in the room with a meal tray in her hands. Brennan grimaced and shook her head.

"I'm not hungry."

The woman raised her eyebrows. "Well you'd better get feeling just that, sweetheart, because hungry or not you need to regain your strength." She helped her sit up straight, propping the pillows behind her back, and put the tray down in front of her. "I won't take this out before it's finished. Eat", she added in a strict voice, winking at Angela with a half-smile before leaving the room.

Brennan glanced at the tray. The vision and smell of the food made her sick but her mind told her she had to eat.

"It's not exactly appetising" Angela noted in a sympathetic voice. "But if I were in your place, I'd eat it all, because if you don't I'm afraid she'll kick your ass." They both laughed.

When their laughter died, their eyes met and they remained locked a long moment, staring at each other with gratitude. No words were needed for them to know what the other was thinking. Brennan was the one who broke eye contact, turning her gaze to the food and sticking her fork into the vegetables.

"We'd better start, Angela", she said after slowly swallowing, earning herself a surprised and concerned look from her friend. "Are you sure?" When she nodded, Angela grabbed her sketch book and her pen from her bag. "Are you really sure you want to do this now, sweetie?"

"Listen, Angela. I've been working on this case. I'm still working on it. I want to catch him, and this has nothing to do with what he did to me. If we don't find him, he'll do it again. So what do you need?"

"Okay... First of all, tell me all that comes to you about his physical appearance."

"He wasn't tall. About 5', 5'5". And he was skinny. His hair was straight and the colour... I would say dark blond, or light brown maybe. It was not long or short. He had a long face and his eyes were small. His face was young, immature, but I think he was older than he seemed... About 30, 35 years old."

"Do you remember his mouth?"

"I... Thin, I guess. And he looked pale."

"What about his nose?"

"Small."

"Like this?"

"No, thinner."

"His ears?"

"Sticking out."

Angela finished her sketch before showing it to her friend. "Does it look like him?"

"Yes. No. I don't know. His look was shier, shifty."

The artist corrected the sketch. "Like this?"

Brennan narrowed her eyes. "Yes, like this", she concluded, though not too sure about her description. But after all, she had barely seen him and there was something about him that made the description difficult. It was his voice she remembered clearest. His damned voice that sent shivers on her spine.

"Okay sweetie, I'm gonna go back to work. Jack is in the waiting room, he will stay with you for a while. I'll call him if we find anything, all right?" Brennan nodded and Angela bent over her, gently kissing her forehead and taking advantage of her position to whisper in her ear. "I'm sure your knight in shining armour will be here soon." She walked to the door, then stopped and spun around with a grin on her face. "Oh, sweetie... You should eat your pudding before Jack arrives, or he will pounce on it. I'm just saying." She winked at her friend and left the room.

Leaned against the wall of the corridor, Angela sighed, the smile on her face fading. She glanced at the sketch. This would not be easy. She fumbled in her bag and grabbed her cell phone. "Hey Booth. She's woken up..." Brennan pricked up her ears. The door wasn't completely closed and she could hear her friend from her room. "Fine, considering what happened to her..." Angela's voice was weary, filled with tiredness. "Yeah, I've got a sketch, but I'm not sure... Her description was pretty confused. Yeah, three agents. Always two at her door." Three agents were here to keep her safe... Booth, most probably... He feared the man would try to finish what he had begun. But she doubted that. Not here. "Okay, I'll go to the school and show the sketch to the director, but I can't promise you anything." There was a pause. "No Booth, I can't do that, okay? It's not... I can't, I'm sorry." A pause again. "Okay then."

Angela ended the call and headed for the exit, lost in her thoughts. She knew she had to push her feelings aside and focus on the case. When she bumped into someone, she mumbled apologies and continued her way through the corridor, scolding herself and making sure she watched her step.

The day before, his curiosity had already been aroused by these men wearing black suits standing in front of room 217, obviously guarding it. He called them the 'Men in Black', just for fun. After bumping into the lady, he stayed a long moment staring at her as she was stalking away. She seemed worried, tired. But a lot of people were worried and tired in a hospital. He turned his attention back to room 217. The door was half-opened and the Men in Black were looking away, chatting and laughing with coffee-cups in their hands. If he could just have a quick look... He walked closer, making sure he didn't draw the men's attention. He knew that curiosity was a bad flaw, but he just couldn't resist. A quick look and he'd get back to his tasks. There was a woman, alone in the room. She was eating slowly, a meal tray in her lap. His heart beat faster when he noticed the bandages on her wrists. And it stopped when she slightly turned her head towards the door, allowing him to recognize her face.

"You can't be here, sir." A firm hand grabbed his arm. "Don't stay here, please." The Men in Black were no longer laughing. And neither was he.

A/N: I promise you'll have at least 3 more chapters quite fast, because they are already written and just waiting for correction. I hope you'll keep on liking it, please review!