A/N: Yay! I'm still alive! And I'm very sorry. I thought I'd uploaded this chapter this morning. You're getting two for the price of one tonight in apology...Chapter 22 is coming right up!

Disclaimer: I do not own the television show "Bones." I do own some Itunes credit, which got reduced significantly this morning as I bought FOUR season 4 episodes!

Approximately 45 hours after the injection…

Brennan was glad Angela was able to set up a minor command post with both women's laptops on the empty bed in Booth's room. She didn't want to leave him, even now.

While Angela set up she'd scrounged up a couple of extra chairs. The room was terribly crowded with people and furniture and if a doctor or nurse walked in they'd probably all get tossed out. Brennan didn't care.

Gates sat between the two women. Max had refused a chair, preferring to stand behind the blond man, his hands firmly on Gates' shoulders.

The computer's reception was clear, so the shock and disapproval of the gang back at the Jeffersonian was easily detected. It was hard to tell who was angrier at the moment – Hodgins or Cam. Brennan decided her boss had the edge – if looks could kill, Gates would need a crash cart.

Brennan spoke over the overlapping questions of those at the lab. "We don't have time for this! We need to find out what Mr. Gates knows and see if it helps us find The Professor!"

Everyone got quiet. Max leaned down and spoke into Gates' ear. "All right. What do you know?"

Gates swallowed. He seemed to have aged in the last few minutes, looking haggard, his blond hair dull and lank.

"Not long after I came to work at the Jeffersonian," he started, "I got home and got jumped before I could get into my place."

"Did you see who?" Brennan asked.

He shook his head. "He came up behind me, slapped a cloth with drugs on it over my nose and mouth. I was out like a light."

He shuddered. "When I woke up…I was in a basement. There was a light bulb overhead, and a bed with a nightstand by it and a toilet…and…and a woman I'm pretty sure now was Leslie Roker."

Carl Peterson's eyes narrowed. He'd said very little, just stood behind Jack with a smug smile on his face. But at the mention of his assistant, he appeared more interested.

"She – she was tied up," Gates stammered. "But she was sweating like crazy, her whole body shaking…and she was in pain. I – I've never seen someone in that much pain before. She was writhing on the floor and the only reason I didn't hear her screaming was she was gagged."

Angela made a small shocked sound. Carl's lips tightened.

"There was an intercom," Gates continued. "A man's voice, he told me – he told me if I didn't do exactly what he said I would – he'd give me what he'd given her. Then he told me to take off her gag and wait for instructions."

"And you just did?" Hodgins asked.

"I didn't have a choice!" Gates cried. "I didn't want to…but I did what he said. She started screaming…screaming…I still hear it sometimes, when I'm sleeping…" he dropped his face into his hands.

Max shook him. "What else?"

"I – I watched her die," Gates mumbled into his hands. "Then, when The Professor heard her stop screaming, he asked if she were dead. When I said yes, he told me to open the drawer of the nightstand and inject myself with the syringe I found there. He said if I didn't he'd come in and inject me with – with what killed her."

Gates was clearly upset. Brennan tried to ignore it. She didn't want to feel sorry for him, not after what he'd done to Booth.

"I did as he said and got real sleepy. I lay on the bed. Next thing I knew, I was back in my car. There was a cell phone and a note in the passenger seat."

"You still have the note?" Hodgins asked.

Gates shook his head. "He told me to destroy it after I read it. The phone was for us to communicate – he'd text me and then I had to call this one number whenever he wanted to talk to me. The note said he wanted me to report to him our progress on any of the murders attributed to him."

"Report? And sabotage?" Cam asked, her voice hard.

"No," Gates shook his head. "I was supposed to do whatever Dr. Brennan told me – no more, no less."

Gates wiped his sweating face with a shaking hand. "As time went on, the calls got more frequent. He'd be mad, wondering what was taking so long. He - he knows you, Dr. Brennan - he called you "Temperance" and said you must've gotten dumber than when you were together. He – he's sick, like Angela said. Sometimes he'd complain of horrible headaches."

"What about Booth?" Brennan asked.

Gates looked ashamed. "The other day, he told me to try to find out when Booth would be alone. Said he had to move up the schedule. I happened to hear you guys talking when he dropped you back to the Jeffersonian and found out he'd be watching TV at home. When The Professor called, I told him."

Brennan clenched her fists. She had to force herself not to wrap her hands around Gates' neck and squeeze the life out of him. "You set Booth up for him. How could you do that?"

"I – I didn't know he'd attack him," Gates stammered.

Max swore and slapped the back of Gates' head. "There's no way you're that stupid. How could you not know? How could you hand over a victim to him?"

"It might've been me if it wasn't Booth!" Gates said. "I couldn't chance that. I'm sorry I couldn't, but I'm not that kind of guy."

Brennan felt herself trembling with rage. "Booth would've done it for you," she hissed.

Gates hung his head. Cam spoke up. "Is that all you know?"

"I – I talked him into letting me plant the evidence at Ms. Roker's place. I said giving you one clue wouldn't make you any less worthy of him…" Gates looked at Brennan, tears in his eyes. "I know I'm scum, Dr. Brennan. I'm sorry. That's not much but it's all I have."

"There's gotta be more," Max said.

"There isn't," Gates said.

Max shook the man. "Think! You've talked to him. What did he say? You said he complained of headaches. Anything related to that?"

Gates shut his eyes. Brennan found herself holding her breath. She heard a groan from Booth and knew his time was slipping away.

Finally, Gates opened his eyes. "This week…he said something, I don't think it was to me, more like he was talking out loud…something about needing his next injection of Protain – Protain-something…"

"Protainomain?" Carl asked, leaning forward.

Gates nodded. "Yes! That's the word."

"Carl?" Brennan asked, feeling a tiny sliver of hope.

The biochemist looked thoughtful. "Protainomain is a drug I helped develop that we're doing clinical trials on in the area. It's to help ease the suffering of those with terminal brain tumors."

Everyone looked more alert. "Was Leslie Roker helping you with the trials?" Cam asked.

"Yes," Carl said, "among others."

"We need a list of those on the trial," Brennan said. She looked at Angels.

"Point me to a website and I'm so there," the artist said. At Carl's hesitation, she snapped, "I could find it and hack into it, but it'll take time. So just spit it out."

With a sigh Carl gave her the necessary addresses and access codes. Angela frowned as she looked over the list. "There's over 3,000 names here!"

Brennan's heart sank. Too many names. She'd never be able to find the one they needed…

"Narrow it down," Sweets said thoughtfully. "Take out all the women and children – we know The Professor is a man."

Angela nodded. "That brings it down to about eighteen hundred."

"Try focusing on those in the Richmond area," Hodgins suggested. "All the particulate evidence we've gotten points to there."

Angela nodded, biting her lip as she entered the parameters. "Okay…700."

Cam looked thoughtful. "Am I correct that you all divided the patients you treated between you? And is that part of the database?"

Carl nodded. "Yes, of course. It's a way to keep track of the results."

Cam turned back to the screen. "Angela, pull only those who were treated by Leslie Roker. The Professor must have met her somehow – that way makes sense."

"Got it…" Angela said. "Okay, 144 names."

"Let me see," Brennan said. She slid into the seat Angela vacated, and began to look through the list of names.

Two thirds of the way down the list, a name leapt out at her. She made no sound, but Angela saw her expression. "Sweetie?"

Mute, Brennan pointed to the name. Angela gasped. "Him?"

"It makes sense," Brennan said, swallowing. She pulled out her GPS device and entered the address. "We have to hurry. Carl, come down here and talk to Booth's doctor. Make sure you can administer the antitoxin as soon as I get back."

"Temperance?" Carl asked, looking uncomfortable, "How far away is this person?"

She watched as her GPS blinked out the information. "Sixty miles." She glanced out the window…it was dark, too dark. "Is it still foggy?"

"Yes, it's getting worse," Sweets said. "They've shut down the airports last I heard."

"Then I'll drive," Brennan said. "Carl –"

"Temperance, listen to me," Carl said. "There is no way you'll get there and back in time. Agent Booth has less than 3 hours. You have no time!"

"Call the FBI," Sweets suggested.

"No!" Brennan said. "If they corner him, he might destroy the antitoxin. He wants me – it's the only hope Booth has."

Carl was relentless. "Temperance, scientifically Agent Booth has no hope."

She felt as if she'd been punched in the stomach. She wanted to tell him he was wrong, that she could do the impossible, but her scientific mind told her Carl was right. She'd never get back before the 48 hour mark passed.

A gentle hand on her shoulder startled her. Her father looked at her, sympathetic but determined. "Angela tells me Booth didn't give up on you and Hodgins when your time was up."

She knew what he was talking about. A swift glance at Angela confirmed it. Her dad was right.

She leaned into the computer screen. "Hodgins, get Carl down here. Stun him if you have to."

"You got it, Dr. B," Hodgins said, standing.

Carl started to say something but Brennan wasn't listening. She ran to the nightstand next to Booth's bed, yanking open the drawer that held his personal effects. She snatched his car keys.

Max looked at her. "What are you doing?"

"Booth's car has a siren," she said. "It'll be faster."

She hesitated as she looked at the sweating face of her partner. Dimly she heard the other three talking.

"I'm going with Tempe, Angela. Can you handle Gates?"

"I – I won't try anything, Mr. Keenan."

"You got that right. Go with Brennan, Max, I can keep an eye on Judas here until Hodgins arrives."

It occurred to Brennan this might be the last time she saw her partner alive.

Before she could reason her way out of it, she bent down and pressed her lips to his burning forehead. She allowed her fingers to run through his damp hair as she put her lips close to his ear.

"Keep fighting," she whispered. "I'm coming back."

Then she straightened up and left the room, her father right behind her.

A/N2: There is, of course, no such drug as Protainomain.

Hope you liked the chapter! I wanted everyone to have a part in figuring this out, because it's the TEAM that's so cool.

More later!