Happy Easter! Well it is here for about half an hour. Sorry it took so long real life kept wanting me to deal with it *roles eyes and mutters about stupid real life* but I'm back! But this is my longest chapter yet!
You and I walk a fragile line
I have known it all this time
but I never thought I'd live to see it break
It's getting dark and it's all too quiet
And I can't trust anything now
And it's coming over you like it's all a big mistake
Oh, I'm holding my breath
Won't lose you again
something's made your eyes go cold
Come on, come on, don't leave me like this
I thought I had you figured out
Something's gone terribly wrong
You're all I wanted
Come on, come on, don't leave me like this
I thought I had you figured out
Can't breathe whenever you're gone
Can't turn back now, I'm haunted
Cam's POV
I started Brennan's autopsy
I HATE having those words together, every time I say it or think it I feel like I can't breath, everyone is trying to pretend that it's not any different than any other case but, I know that none of us are ok.
Angela is the most overt in not being ok, she's been crying and when she's not crying she is trying to squeeze more details from the video, and trying to find who dumped Casey's body in the field not to mention why.
Booth is an enigma, less then a year ago, he would of been broke by the news of her death. Now, he's acting like it doesn't matter at all. Like this case really isn't harder than any other one.
I'm honestly not sure what to do, I may be the boss on paper but until less then two days ago I wasn't really the boss so I'm lost. I'm angry at Brennan because she had to know something was up and she didn't tell any of us. I'm furious at whoever did this, we are all out for their blood. And I'm trying and, probably failing to keep the facade of being as unaffected as possible if only till I get somewhere hidden.
Sweets, he's been hanging around the lab more than an intern. He's trying to pretend that he's any less lost, any better than the rest of us, not that any if us believe it.
Hodgins is mad, we all are. He's had a short temper with all of us all day. He has the most evidence and has been working almost nonstop for the last 12 and a half hours, since 4:30 this morning. He's also pretending to be fine.
Speak of the devil "Hodgins, got anything for Booth?"
"Yeah, they were both at the same place within 24 hours before they died" he says pulling the evidence up on the screen "a small 5 mile area on the upper Potomac is the only area with this high carbon, phosphorous and, oxygen content"
"Why were they both there?"
"I don't know but they both had blood from a rare species of salamander narrowing it to an area of about 1 and a half miles." We fall into an semi-uncomfortable silence both trying to figure out why they were there until "You know, the first thing she did to me after i was hired was give me a vile of soil and tell me to 'tell her something she didn't know' it took me a few hours to analyze the vial but it took me over a year to tell her something she didn't know over twice that for her to trust me at all. Drove me insane." He says with look I couldn't quiet figure out and a small twinge of bitterness? Anger? Nostalgia? Sadness? "Now I want to go back."
I look down at my fallen colleague before answering "We all want to go back. Every single one of us." I say the last part in a almost whisper before I finally look up at Hodgins feeling the tears glaze over my eyes I ask in a, forced, much more boss like voice "anything else, Dr. Hodgins?" I ask forcing myself not to say any more because I knew my voice would break if I did. He just shakes his head and giving me one last look leaves the autopsy suit
I continue the autopsy on Brennan making note of each bruise, cut, scar and graze. Even without the injuries from the crash, there is a ton to catalogue the most the oldest few from before foster care, one scar, probably from a bike accident on her knee and the other on her hand just from being a kid.
The ones from almost twenty years ago show of her time in foster care one nasty one winds it's way from her back to almost over her heart others, probably from cigarets, spell out BITCH across her stomach.
More resent marks tell of being tortured in foreign jungles and getting injured giving people back their identities, I can't wonder if she ever took what us normal people call a vacation.
Three small scars on her stomach from the bullets Rodriguez attempted to kill her with.
The rest are more familiar with some from the descriptions of the others or being there and in many of the cases helping cleaning her up. Those are the hardest to write down, they prove that the person I'm doing an autopsy it one of my friends, one of my family.
The oddest injury is the bruises on your arms, chest, legs and, face all that would be visible covered expertly with make up. Even more prominently bruises and cuts on her knuckles. All slightly healed so not from the accident. They were maybe a week old. Who did this?
I slowly record the injuries from far and resent past before slowly making the Y-incision down her chest and just then Hodgins enters the suite again "I'm gonna take Angie home. I will be back early tomorrow."
"Ok, Dr. Hodgins."
continuing the autopsy I pause when I see your chest cavity having nearly as may injuries both new and old as her skin the doctors did a excellent job cleaning up the mess that it had to have been. I weigh each organ and start a drug test, toxicology report, and blood panel. I find the first bullet in her heart and the second in her liver.
When I finish I slowly stitch up the Y-incision before leaving for the night.
As I enter the garage, the tears, that had been threatening spill all day finally fell. By the time I got to my car they were coming down fast. I rest my head and fore arms on the cool glass trying to calm myself. By the time I finally do it's been about five or ten minutes I kick the side of the car door until I feel out of energy and turn to rest my back on the door for a second. I finally turn and open the door slamming it shut. I place my key into the car and turn it when it finally starts the locks all click as one and, through the vents a grey gas starts to fill the car. I try to turn my key back in vein until I start to get light headed. I fumble with the door knob and lock but neither will budge. I start to see grey as I slam with my full weight into my windows not making any progress for my efforts. My head starts pounding and I know it is the gas. My vision swirls and a tunnel of black appears. I fight it but slowly it consumes me until I see nothing else.
I then feel myself neither floating nor rising but still feel like I'm moving until I open my eyes to a sky light. What ever I'm laying on is cold and unmoving. I start to look around and see that I'm lying on a examination table on the platform of what looks like a abandon Jeffersonian. "Hello?!" I almost yell "Am I Dead?"
"Not quite." a familiar voice answers "or at least not yet." It continues
I spin around quick and standing there, very much alive, with a knowing smirk on her face, is the woman I did the autopsy of I did not an hour ago. Dr Temperance Brennan.
O Good God.
What the hell is going on?
Thanks for reading.
Happy Easter/Spring
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until next time
beckettlovescastlealways
