AN: Sorry for the delay. So I made it up with a long ghost story, lol.
AN2: Upates for "Boom" and "Far Away from Home" coming soon.
Chapter Ten: Jane
Stumbling, clenching her hands to her stomach, she struggled on. Red seeped through, staining the white dress she had on. The cottage was so close, and despite the pain, she pushed her legs harder than before. Ironically, the faster she tried to run the slower she felt herself getting. A flare of panicky fear rushed through her as she acknowledged she was getting weaker. No small wonder, she felt drenched in her own blood and the bullet and stab wounds were excruciating.
"He…isn't…going to…kill me," she gasped, as that same panic slammed back into her system.
She tripped but caught herself as she made it to the door of her ex's summer getaway. Throwing the door open she fell in, exhausted. Not even attempting to get to her feet, she crawled and pulled herself along the floor to the nearest phone in the kitchen. Along the way she passed a broken picture frame on the hardwood floor. She felt dizzy and sick, remembering what it was.
"You sick, bastard," she groaned.
When she broke up with Howard Reading two months ago, the emotionally-distant-overprotective-obsessive-stalker boyfriend, she knew she would have problems. In fact, she wasn't that surprised at his attempts to get back together again, which included chasing, calling, and even break-ins.
Her friends had urged her to call the police. She had been stupid and said she could take care of herself.
Look where that got her.
A little harmless flirting with a co-worker made Howard snap. The last thing she remembered was coming home to find the power off. There was a sudden sharp pain in her abdomen, something that sliced deeply…then she woke up in Howard's bedroom, at the summer get-away cottage.
Terrified and in pain, she tried running from the house. Howard was nowhere to be found. But no sooner had she been running toward the woods, their was a crack of gunfire and an iron-hot sledgehammer that pounded into her back. She felt the fire pass through her stomach and out of her body, two inches above the knife wound. But she wouldn't give up. Howard was more than surprised to see she only stumbled and didn't collapse. With a burning rage, he chased her. If he couldn't have her then no one would…
Now back at the cottage, she felt tears slip from her eyes as she discovered the phone was dead. Her ears picked up Howard's thudding steps on the ground as he neared the entrance, undoubtedly more furious after having to run after her in huge circle.
She was going to die. Shaking her head, she threw open one of the drawers and snatched her diary that he snatched a month ago from her house in one of his break-ins. Quickly scribbling, she made her last entry. She stuffed the journal down her chest and prayed someone would find it later.
And I don't mind
If you say this love is the last time
So now I'll ask
Do you like that?
Do you like that?
Howard Reading breathed heavily as he stared at her quaking and bleeding form. In his hand he held a pistol.
"Did you think I wouldn't see you? Whoring yourself like that, after all we had together? Why don't you love me anymore?"
She lifted her head and coughed, sticky black-colored blood appearing.
"Because you're a psychotic. You kill me…oh God…you kill me and I won't…won't rest until-- "
There was a sudden blast from the gun, a slam to her hear neck…and nothing.
No…(10 Years Later)
Something's getting in the way
Something's just about to break
I will try to find my place in the diary of Jane
So tell me how it should be
Brennan felt sick. Like never before. She should have been in her apartment wrapped up in blankets, not in the rain. Booth watched her warily as she made her way to the bushes. She wretched out the little bit of soup Booth forced her to eat. He winced and went over to her, holding the umbrella over her head.
"You need to go home, Bones," he ordered, but his voice betrayed concern.
"I know…but Booth…"
"Why are we even out here?" Booth interrupted, and rattled off exasperatedly, "We scanned this area tenfold. We have all the evidence. We checked out that abandoned cottage. The owner died of a heart attack five years ago. All we need to identify the Jane Doe is at the Jeffersonian."
Brennan wracked her brain. Why was she out here? She had a complete skeleton at the lab and the remains of a dress. But yet…she felt like something was missing. It was irrational and she hated it.
"I'm sorry Booth. The fever I have…I just can't think straight…I don't even remember why I came out," Brennan coughed, embarrassed that she had dragged him out.
"Come on," he said gently, leading her back to the car. He wasn't worried about her condition, he was dead scared. The moment they discovered Jane Doe 921-732 she had come down with this superflu. Nothing to alleviate the sickness helped. In fact, Booth was a few heartbeats away from driving her straight to the hospital.
But yet…in the back of his mind he felt her sickness was caused by something else. He wouldn't bring himself to say it, but something felt wrong every time he came to this area. It felt like someone was watching him. And in that cottage…he shivered, remembering the cold spot, how the hairs on his arms and neck stood up.
"DON'T LEAVE…"
Booth whipped his head down to his partner. "What did you say?"
Brennan looked up, eyes red and watery. "You heard that, too?"
Booth paused as a rush of cold air slammed into him. He started coughing uncontrollably and sank to his knees. He felt Brennan shake him, asking what was wrong. Just as suddenly as the phenomenon started it ended, leaving a winded Booth.
"What the hell was that?" he gasped. Brennan looked at him with a fear in her eyes and she tried, "Maybe you're getting sick, too."
"I feel fine now…but God, that felt cold." Shaking his head, he rose and caught Brennan's expression.
"You felt that?"
"A draft," she said simply.
"Somehow, I highly I doubt that."
Try to find out what makes you tick
As I lie down
Sore and sick
Do you like that?
Do you like that?
"What are you implying?" Brennan questioned. Booth looked at her not sure if he wanted to tell her what he was thinking. He didn't have to.
"Ghosts and spirits are nothing but imaginative takes that people conjure up to ease the grief of death of loved ones," Brennan burst.
"Try saying that ten times fast."
Brennan shook her head, a heavy fog clouding her eyes.
"There's something here we forgot," she murmured softly. Booth shook his head again.
"Bones, let's go. I'm going to take you to the hospital, you're scaring me."
Resignedly, Brennan nodded. She didn't know what was wrong with her. She saw Booth's figure blur in and out. Though she couldn't see his eyes, she knew they would be filled with fear and concern of her well-being. She felt guilty putting him through all this.
And then she suddenly passed out.
There's a fine line between love and hate
And I don't mind
Just let me say that I like that
I like that
Booth saw her fall forward and he caught her. "Jesus Christ, Bones, are you okay?" His heart was in his throat as he laid her down on the grass and felt for her pulse. It was there, and to his relief strong and steady.
"Okay," he breathed out, relaxing his shaking hands. Lifting her up in his arms, he started carrying his partner the half-mile to where his car was parked on the main road.
Brennan found herself in complete darkness. Then slowly, her surroundings focused and she felt oddly calm. She was in the foliage, where they discovered their Jane Doe. Suddenly, she was pulled about a quarter of a mile towards the west to a pile of rocks. She saw a woman come toward her in a white dress and blonde hair. The woman's blue eyes appeared dull and lifeless. Slowly, she pointed to the ground. Brennan nodded, understanding.
Brennan felt rain pound on her face. She also had the sensation she was being carried. She could feel warmth, and she felt safe. She then smelled Booth's cologne, and she figured he was close by. She remembered what just happened and she opened her eyes. Immediately she registered his arms were under her shoulders and legs. He had taken off his coat and covered her with it. He was soaked and muddy from going through the woods.
Squirming, she ordered, "Booth, put me down."
He looked at her incredulously. "Kidding me, right?" he panted.
"No."
She swung her legs over and Booth had no choice but to let her down. As soon as her feet touched the ground she sprinted off towards the west, feeling a spark of energy.
"BONES! What the hell are you doing?" Booth yelled as he followed her.
Something's getting in the way
Something's just about to break
I will try to find my place in the diary of Jane
As I burn another page
As I look the other way
I still try to"W find my place in the diary of Jane
So tell me how it should be
The branches whipped her face and cut her arms. She had been running full sprint for three minutes and felt like absolute crap. The closer she got to her destination the colder the air got, and the higher she felt her fever rise. But that insane urge that came from nowhere pushed her forward and forced her to ignore Booth's shouts.
Desperate, I will crawl
Waiting for so long
No love, there is no love
Die for anyone
What have I become
Brennan came to a small opening where a pile of stones lay. She stopped abruptly and Booth nearly collided with her. As she caught her breath, Booth grabbed her shoulders and turned her around roughly.
"What in the hell is wrong with you, Temperance?" he demanded angrily, his jaw tight.
Soaking wet and exhausted, Brennan whispered, "I don't know."
Booth watched as her eyes glazed over and he readied himself to catch her again. Instead she dropped to her knees and started digging, clawing at the earth. Booth stepped back, confused.
"What the hell…" he trailed off. "Bones? Come on snap out of it."
"Dig," Brennan whispered hoarsely.
Booth watched in a daze as she continued digging. She stopped after about a foot. Pulling out a muddy and a caked book, she breathed heavily.
Looking around, she caught Booth staring. "Where the hell am I?"
Something's getting in the way
Something's just about to break
I will try to find my place in the diary of Jane
As I burn another page
As I look the other way
I still try to find my place
In the diary of Jane
Brennan closed the diary back at the Jeffersonian. It had been a silent ride back after she convinced Booth to not take her to the hospital. She felt fine. Like she hadn't had the flu to begin with. What she did leave out was her absolute no recollection of what happened after she passed out.
There was a knock and Brennan jumped slightly. Booth came in, sneezing. Brennan smiled sadly and said sheepishly, "Sorry."
He waved his hand and sniffled, "What I get for chasing my partner in the rain."
"I…was sick."
He looked at her with bleary eyes and retorted, "And now you're suddenly better. Damn, maybe I should get possessed so I can get over this cold."
"What?! Booth, ghosts are--"
"Are nothing but stories people create after Uncle Al or the family pet dies blah blah blah," Booth interrupted.
Brennan snorted and replied, "That's not even close to what I said earlier."
"How'd you get better so soon?" he challenged.
"Viruses are unpredictable," she said simply.
"How'd you find the diary in your hands?" he asked quietly.
Brennan stared at him, and he shrugged his shoulders. "Well?"
"I don't remember, okay?"
Booth sat on the edge of the desk and started singing off key, "I got a spell on you, because you're mine…" She rolled her eyes and he added, "That old black magic, gets you every time."
Before she could hit him, he asked, "So you gonna tell me who your ghost--sorry, I meant to say, Jane Doe was?"
Brennan frowned. "Ghosts do not exist."
"Keep telling yourself that, babe."
"Look I don't remember what happened. I'm sure whatever happened was due to the fever. Now, could you please drop it?" Brennan bickered with Booth.
He threw his hands up in defeat. "Name of the Jane Doe, please?" The air grew solemn as Brennan gave Booth a picture of their Jane Doe.
"She was 21. So young. Her name was Fatina Willowburgs. From D.C."
Booth wrote down the information and Brennan continued, "I read her diary. She was in love. That seemed to be her only downfall."
"Right feelings. Just the wrong guy."
"I know what you mean," Brennan said to herself.
Booth heard her but didn't call it. She continued again, "Her last entry was dated ten years ago to the date. It's got blood on the pages so I assumed she wrote it before she died. 'My name is Fatina. Howard Reading was my murderer. Catch him.' And on the next page Howard Reading ranted about why he had to kill her. Unbelievable."
"Well. Whatever the reasons, you gave Jane a name," Booth sighed.
"Yeah…you said Howard died of a heart attack?"
"Five years ago. To the date." Booth said, his eyes studying Brennan's reaction.
"Cause?"
"Unknown. Arteries were clean."
A thick silence ascended the room.
"Well. I could use a beer right about now," Brennan said standing up.
"Best thing you said all day," Booth agreed. The two headed out, trying to leave the feeling of eeriness away.
"Thank you…"
"I didn't hear that," Booth said quickly.
"Me neither," Brennan quickly agreed.
"Good."
"Good."