Antonia covered her ears and closed her eyes tightly. She could feel the rough movement of the car, and though she tried to drown out the sound, the screaming siren on her father's car still burned her ears. She hated the sound of sirens, she hated when her father drove this way, she hated knowing that something very bad was happening around her, and she had no idea what it was. She could feel the tears prickling her eyes, and wanted to call out to her father to slow down, but knew that he would never put her in danger if there wasn't something on the line.
She was afraid mostly because she had no idea what was going on. One second her father was talking to his brother, and in the next, she had been lifted from the floor in one fell swoop and her father was running with her in his arms toward the car. There was no pause, no explanation. He nearly tossed her into the car, shouted for her to buckle her seatbelt and started the siren on his car. She was sure that his foot never let the pedal have air between it and the floor board, and the moment they screeched up to the front of their home, she knew something had to have happened. There were three police cars out in front of the house, and a cautious police officer approaching the house. Her father leapt from the car and ran toward the front door, shouting for the officer to stay back, that his children were inside, that he had also gotten a phone call, and that he simply needed them for back up. He identified himself, and the officer acted as if he already knew who he was, then backed him up accordingly.
The longer Antonia sat there, the more she trembled with fear. Her father had forgotten that she had been in the car, forgotten to tell her to stay put, forgotten that she would be just as wrought with fear as he was, only she was alone, she was unknowing. She pressed her face against the glass, her hands on either side, as she watched her father approach the door that was already open. She closed her eyes tightly, clenching her fists as she began to cry violently against the window of the SUV.
Booth moved deftly toward the open door, his eyes focused on the police officer beside him, their guns drawn. "My daughter is in the car. I need someone to stay with her." Booth said, his eyes focused on the other man, he nodded and mumbled something into the radio on his shoulder. "Ready?" He said, and the officer nodded, and with that they headed in through the door.
Immediately Booth began to call out to Parker, for Gracie and Seeley. His voice was met with silence. "Parker! Parker it's Dad! Answer me!" He called as he looked around at the mess that was caused by the intruders. He immediately headed upstairs to his bedroom, where Parker said he was calling from. "Parker! Parker!" He called. "Gracie girl! Daddy is here! Gracie? Seeley?" He called, out of breath. His voice was hoarse from either emotion or from screaming, and his heart was pounding so hard in his ears that he was surprised he could concentrate on walking. The officer at the bottom of the stairs said he'd secure the rest of the house, and Booth nodded as he turned the corner. "Parker!" He called.
His blood ran cold as he looked at the scene in his bedroom. The mattress was pulled awkwardly to the side, blankets and pillows were strewn about, and it almost looked as if it had been used as a shield. The bedside lamp lay smashed on the ground, and as Booth rounded the corner of his bed, he could feel his stomach seize. His son's sneakers were visible, his body wrapped tightly in a sheet, unmoving. "Oh my God, Parker." He whispered, as he approached the still, wrapped body, a portion of the white sheet soaked with blood. "Get an ambulance!" He screamed, unwrapping the boy from his shroud.
Suddenly, the boy's body not only began to move, but it began to roll violently. A grunt of anger and pain was released from the blanket, as Booth tried desperately to soothe him. "Parker, it's dad. Parker, calm down! Parker!" Booth exclaimed as his son's face came into view. His nose was bloody, his mouth gagged with a pillowcase, Booth cradled the boy and pulled the gag from his mouth.
"Grace!" He exclaimed suddenly, arching his back in his father's arms, his tied hands burned as he screamed and shook violently. "Fuck, Dad! Grace! The bastard took Gracie!" He screamed, as his anger turned to sobs. "I tried to stop them! I tried to stop them, but they just grabbed her and Seeley! Dad!" he screamed.
Booth cradled his son and pressed him against him as he untied the boy's hands. Pulling the rest of the sheet from his body, he lifted the sobbing boy into his arms and into the hallway. Parker was not a small boy anymore, but with the adrenaline coursing through Booth right now, he was certain he could carry anything. He screamed out for his daughter as he tore through the hall to her bedroom. "Gracie…" He whispered as he looked to her room, noticing that several things had been moved around, his eyes flashed to the wall as his wailing son sobbed in his arms.
Scrawled across the light pink wall in red crayon, the crude handwriting read.
'Jared 4 the kids'
Booth could feel the room shaking, the light flickering, and becoming darker as he took several deep breaths. There was a movement behind him but he couldn't react, and after a moment, he felt someone pull his son from his arms, still sobbing, screaming for him as Booth fell to his knees. "Booth?" The police officer said, obviously familiar with him, familiar with his family. "Booth, where is your wife? We can call her… where is Doctor Brennan?"
His eyes skated across the room, rolling over his daughter's belongings as he tried to focus, tried to think, tried to breathe, anything. He could see her face in his mind, his wife's eyes, his smile and tender heart. It was that moment that his wife's voice pushed into his memory, and when all seemed to be crashing down around him, he felt her strength. With that, he pushed himself from the floor and turned to the officer.
"I'll call her." He said, watching the officer nod his head. "Search the house, look for anything. I need my family." He said, as he turned sharply and rushed down the stairs toward the sound of the screaming ambulance, to his son and his sobbing daughter, pledging to himself and his family that everything would be made right again.