A/N : Yay, another chapter! I'm in a writing mood, and fortunately, my beta is on holidays, meaning that she has a lot of time. Thank you so much for all your lovely reviews, I'm always happy to read what you think about my story, especially when people give me their favourite quotes. I hope you'll enjoy this chapter. I have to admit that for this one, I was helped a lot by this same episode of The Inside that inspired me for Brennan's dream in chapter 10. However, if anyone of you know the show and recognize the episode, forget it because even if I kept some dialogs and events, I merely adapted them to my plot and the characters.

Good reading!

Chapter 14 – On trust

She waited, expecting him to move. She waited, but soon she came to the conclusion that he was unconscious. As uncomfortable as the position of her body was, she wished she could just close her eyes and lie here, waiting for whatever would happen, or whoever would come. But she couldn't. She knew that very well. She had to stand up, and go back. It seemed impossible, but she had to convince herself that it wasn't.

She stretched her arms, managed to pass the cuffs over his head and rolled onto her back. Then, she sat up and, pushing hard on her hands, she managed to get to her feet. She picked the gun off the ground but, thrown off balance by her trembling legs, she clumsily squeezed the trigger. The noise made her jump. She lowered her gaze to the man lying motionlessly on the ground. He looked still unconscious. Even dead, maybe. But she didn't check. It wasn't that important.

Instead, she scanned the area, searching for the little girl, but she was obviously hiding under a tree or a thicket. The shot had to have scared her. Poor girl. She had already been frightened enough.

"Chloe? Chloe Brighton?" Brennan called with a loud but reassuring voice.

"She went that way."

Brennan startled and spun around to find her mother standing behind her, pointing her finger to her right. She closed her eyes. She closed them tightly. She focused on her will to stop seeing things or people that didn't exist, repeated to herself that it wasn't real. But when she opened them again, the delusion was still there, at the same place, in the same position, still pointing her finger in the same direction.

"Leave me alone, you're just an illusion. Leave me."

As illogical as it was to talk to a delusion, she did. Then, she could have chosen the opposite way, just to be cross. But, as stupid as it might seem, she didn't. She followed the exact direction the delusion was pointing at. Why would another one be better than this one, anyway?

"You're never gonna make it out of here without my help, honey."

Brennan shook her head, as if it would help her get rid of the delusion; and she quickened her pace, as if she could leave it behind.

"I said leave me al—"

She wasn't able to finish her sentence, for she stumbled over a root and tumbled down a gentle slope. During her fall, she let go of the gun which dropped on the ground. She stood up immediately, trying to ignore her soaring muscles and persistent hammering in her head. She couldn't permit herself to lose time; she couldn't allow herself to think about every painful part of her body. When she was about to start again, a noise made her turn around.

Chloe had been following her. She had seen her fall; she had picked the gun off the ground. And now she was standing there, pointing it straight at her, her finger on the trigger, ready to shoot if necessary. It felt so strange, this object, made to kill, in the hands of such a young, fragile girl.

Brennan took one step towards her, then another, slowly. The child seemed terrified. Not surprising, after all that she had been through.

"Chloe, it's okay. I'm your friend," she said, trying to sound reassuring and trustful. "I've been looking for you. A lot of people have. I'm not gonna hurt you. Just give me the gun."

"No. You're his friend. I saw you with him."

Brennan raised her hands to show her cuffs. "Because he took me. He put me in these."

Chloe shook her head and didn't lower the gun. "Liar."

"Chloe, I promise you that I—"

"You can't trick me," the little girl interrupted her with a louder voice.

Brennan sighed inwardly, wondering how she could possibly gain the trust of this lost, terrified child. But when all her strength was mobilised to try to stay up, thinking and focusing had almost become impossible. She wanted to just lie here, no matter the hardness of the ground, and to close her eyes for good. She wanted to tell Chloe to shoot her if she thought it was the right thing to do; that she didn't care.

"You can do it, Temperance," a gentle voice whispered in her ear. "Ask her if you can wash your face in that spring."

"Where is he?" Chloe inquired, glancing around as if expecting Sam to appear from behind a tree at any moment.

"He's gone. I swear," Brennan assured her. "Look, Chloe… Would you mind if I just washed my face over there? You know, sometimes, you just… You feel so much better if you can just wash your face."

The little girl considered her request for a couple of seconds before nodding her agreement.

Brennan managed to thank her with a slight smile. She walked towards the spring and kneeled down. She cupped her hands to fetch some water and she carefully washed the blood off the right side of her face. As she was doing that, she quickly took the earring from her right ear and kept it hidden in her fist.

"You sure he's gone?"

Brennan turned her head towards the little girl. She was still aiming the gun at her, her finger ready to pull the trigger if she ever felt threatened. However, something had changed in her eyes, in the tone of her voice. She was beginning to trust her.

Brennan gave her a nod, as firm as she was able to. "Yeah. I'm sure." While she was leaning on her hands to get to her feet, she discretely left the earring on a rock, just in case somebody would look for her here—hoping that if Booth saw the earring, he'd recognise it as hers. "I'm sure. He won't be bothering us." The mere movement of standing up had left her breathless. Her head was more painful than ever, and her legs were trembling, threatening to give way under her. "If you want, I can show you."

"No!" the little girl squeaked. When she was beginning to regain trust in somebody, the mere mention of her abductor had woken up the terror in her.

"Tell her it's okay," her mother's voice murmured in her ear.

"It's okay," Brennan said with a gentle voice.

"Tell her she doesn't have to do anything she doesn't want to."

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to," she repeated absently, too tired to think about what she was doing. She merely wanted to get out of here—to get the both of them, safely, out of here.

"Let her think she's in charge."

"You're in charge," she repeated again. "Okay?"

"Okay."

The little girl seemed calmer, now.

"So… What do you wanna do?"

"I need to find… I want… I wanna see…" Chloe stammered, suddenly on the verge of tears.

"You need to find a way out of here," Brennan finished her sentence for her. "You wanna see your parents, right?"

The child merely nodded her head.

"Okay. We can do that. Do you know the way back to his house?"

Chloe, who hadn't lowered the gun yet, nodded again.

"Then, just show me where you wanna go. If you want, I'll walk in front of you. And if I do anything you don't like, you can shoot me."

"Okay," the girl agreed in a small voice.

"Great. Now… Which way?" Her head spun so much that she wondered for how long she'd be able to walk.

Chloe thought before pointing to a path on her right. Brennan gave her a smile and headed in that direction. She walked, watching her step to keep from tumbling over again, trying to convince herself that her legs didn't feel like they couldn't carry her body anymore. She walked, and the idea of questioning the six-years-old's ability to find her way back never came to mind. She walked, focused on the single, usually simple movement of stepping straight and following the path.

Sam Lieberman slowly regained consciousness. The first thing he noticed was the dirt in his nose and mouth, from which he understood that he was lying on the ground. Then, he realised how painful his throat was. And finally, he remembered why he was lying here. She had managed to strangle him with the chain of her cuffs. That bitch.

He sat up and let his gaze wander over his surroundings. She had taken the gun with her, of course. He wondered how long he had been unconscious. He glanced at his watch. She couldn't be that far ahead of him. He stood up and wiped the dirt off his clothes. He had seen how slowly she moved, threatening to pass out with each step. Even when they had been introduced to each other, he had noticed the bags under her eyes, her vacant look, the way she startled at each sound. He was used to observing people; he had always liked to try to read them. And he could read this woman like an open book. But what he was interested in at the moment was her obvious lack of sleep. She was exhausted, and at this pace, she wouldn't get far. Sure enough, he'd find her lying somewhere on a path. One moment or another, she'd give up or her body would oblige her to. He realised he still stood a chance. It wasn't over yet. He could still win this.

He didn't even have to run. He'd take his time to locate her tracks and he'd hunt her down.

They had been walking for what seemed to Brennan an eternity. They had been walking in silence, merely following the path. Her pace was unsteady, but she was still holding on. The question was, for how long?

"Are you sure this is the right way?"

"I don't know, they all look the same." The child's voice coming from behind her was trembling, filled with doubts.

"Do you remember where the sun was in the sky when you left?" She tried to be reassuring, but it was hard when she herself was about to break down. It occurred to her that it had been a great mistake to trust a child's sense of direction; that she should have gone with her first idea, which was to go back to the chopper. But she wasn't the one holding the gun. And she didn't actually know the way back to the scene of the accident better than Chloe remembered which way led to the house. They were lost.

She heard Chloe stop walking. "No…" the little girl whined.

Brennan turned around slowly, careful not to scare her, and found her down on her knees, tears sliding down her cheeks and the gun next to her. She moved closer to her and kneeled in front of her. "It's okay. It's gonna be okay."

As exhausted as she was, she still found the strength to place a soothing hand on the child's shoulder.

"What if we don't find the house before the night comes?" Chloe asked, her voice broken by sobs.

"We'd just stop for a little while and rest. Maybe get some sleep."

Chloe's eyes widened in fear. "No, we can't! There are bad things in the woods!"

"We have each other. We'll be fine."

Oh how hard it was to sound believable. She hated to lie. Even to children—especially to children. She had never seen the point. Perhaps she had always wished her parents would have told her and her brother the truth.

"That's good, Temperance," her mother's voice encouraged her. Oh no. Now this was happening again.

"You promise?"

Brennan hesitated a long moment, staring in the child's wide, clear gaze. She had stopped crying, as if realising that she could rely on a trustworthy adult, now. After all, she was just a child. But the expectancy she could read in her eyes created a knot in Brennan's stomach. She could barely stay up on her feet, she was lost, discouraged, but she was the adult and it was her duty to protect this little girl and make her feel safe.

"Promise her anything, honey."

She knew the voice wasn't real, and she wished it could just stop. Yet, she kept doing as it was saying. "I promise."

Chloe reached for the gun and handed it to her. "Do you want this back?"

The way she was holding it now proved how much of a burden it had been to her. Something too heavy for her, or too dangerous— too big a responsibility.

"Only if you wanna give it to me."

She didn't need to be told twice. She placed the gun in Brennan's hand, carefully.

"Good job, honey."

She wanted to tell the voice to shut up, but she wasn't alone, so she chose to ignore it.

"You're ready to go?" she asked instead.

Chloe nodded her head.

"Me too," Brennan stated. Another lie. She wasn't totally sure that stopping and sitting had been a very good idea. She wasn't sure she'd be able to get to her feet and walk again, now. Yet, she did it. A little too quickly, though, for everything became blurred and dark before her eyes. "Which… Which way… Which way were we…" she stammered before her legs gave way under her and she collapsed hard onto the ground.

The first shot. He hadn't been completely sure that he hadn't imagined it. But it had made him prick up his ears and when the second one had rung in the quiet woods, he had known that he wasn't dreaming. Hunting wasn't allowed in this forest. It was a protected area.

He quickened his pace in the direction of the shots, in his head a jumble of scenarios. Two shots, then nothing. Nothing but an eerie silence. Even the birds had stopped singing.

He found more tracks, here and there. He knew they were fresh, for it was summer and it hadn't rained for a long time. He knew perfectly well they could belong to a hiker, too. There were plenty of them around here. But the tracks were going in the right direction, so he kept following them, hoping that they would lead him to her. Hoping that she had been the one shooting.

He cursed when he stepped in a puddle and splashed mud on his clothes. An annoyed glance at the wet legs of his pants told him that it wasn't actually a puddle but a spring. He stepped out of the water, wondering how the hell he could care about being mud-spattered when he didn't know what had become of Bones. He was looking for tracks when something reflecting the sunlight on a rock caught his attention. He moved closer to examine what he was pretty sure was a mere quartz stone. But when he bent down to take a closer look at the object, he realised that it was no stone but a silver earring. Bones' earring, one of her favourite pair.

She had left this for him. Because she knew that he would recognise it. Because she trusted him.

He closed his fist around the small, precious jewel. And he got going again immediately, picturing the smile she would give him when he'd put it back in her ear. It reminded him of how surprised and pleased she had looked when he had given her back the earring she thought she had lost it in New Orleans, almost two years earlier. He obliged himself to concentrate his thoughts on this picture of her, to focus his mind on what she'd say. She'd say that she knew he'd find her; that she knew he'd never give up. That she trusted him. And he'd say that he knew she would hold on; that he knew she'd never give up. That he trusted her.

She had been the one holding the gun. It couldn't be any other way.

A/N : I have an important announcement to make. My lovely beta Catherine (a big hug to you for your help, as usual) and I have just posted the first chapter of our (may I say awesome?) story, Never Say Never. You'll find it on our common account 'C.M. Bones' and I promise you that you'll enjoy this angsty (but isn't always there BB lovin in BB angst, uhm?) beginning, while waiting for me to write chapter 15!