FINALE:

Booth couldn't estimate just how much of the time he had slept. Three or four, or six? He definitely lost track. But the glooming sky overhead told him it was already early in the evening. For a moment, he thought of preparing dinner for Bones—wait, it almost slipped his mind that something happened.

Had they kissed, and had he pulled her away from him? He gave himself a punch for being such an idiot. Burying his head to his hands, he thought of the many ways he hurt her. Wasn't only that afternoon, had he felt guilty over Julia's doings that caused Brennan so much harm? Why hadn't he thought of that?

And then, it hit him. Julia.

His cop mentality kicked in, and his senses told him, that the suspect was on the loose, most probably on her hunt for Brennan.

"Damn it, Booth!" He scolded at himself, and veered away from his bed. Straight to the living room where Brennan's makeshift bed lay neat he went, and felt a familiar knot in his stomach.

She was gone.

"Bones?,"—he called out, a glimmer of hope still burning inside him, though his mind told him nobody else was inside his apartment apart from himself.

Still, his heart took over, and he didn't even try. He scoured the bathroom and the other places she could be, and ended up with nothing. It was pin-drop quiet, only his footsteps and heavy breathing filling the air with unwanted fear.

For a moment, he pretended to be like Brennan. Logical, rational, and… wait, she could be with Angela! The thought was so convincing that he hurried to his kitchen lightning fast, and reached for his landline.

He reached for a little address book beside the telephone, and immediately searched Angela's contact number. Once he did, he tapped the digits way too hardly on the number board, and held the device up his ear, hoping for a quick answer.

As if on cue, Angela picked up. "Booth!," even in her voice, there was worry.

He knots on his stomach only went tighter. "Angela, please tell me Bones is with you," he tried to sound calm, but completely failed.

"Booth, no she's not. She was supposed to meet me at the diner two hours ago. I am…really worried about her. You…you know it's…it's not like her to be tardy or anything… and…and…"—she stammered, even with just listening to her voice, Booth could tell she was tearing up—"Booth, I don't want to think of the bad side but…"

"Sshh, calm down, Ange. Are you still at the diner?"

"Y…yes, I figured it's not safe to leave…"

"Good, now do not move. I'll come and get you,"

He slammed the telephone onto the counter, and was on his way to his car, when he noticed a small piece of tissue underneath a small figurine on top of his coffee table. His mind flipped when he recognized the familiar scrawl on the material.

He didn't need to read the content—he exactly knew what it was about. He shoved it to his pocket, and rushed to his car. Brennan was saying goodbye, and he hoped it wasn't for good. Because even hell or high waters won't hinder him from getting another chance with the woman he loved.

Now, he was certain. Another punch in the gut for only admitting that now.

-BONES-BONES-BONES-

Everything was in a blur. The rhythmic sway of whatever vehicle she was in was nauseating. She couldn't decide if she was being blindfolded, or her eyes were blind, if her feet were tied together, or she was paralyzed. Her mind won't focus. She was drugged, and that was the only thing she could come up.

But as moments went by, she felt the chemicals wear off, and she had never been so ungrateful. She felt burns all over her skin; she wondered how she got them in the first place. She moved an inch, and her muscles clenched so tight, that it hurt. It was like her body was cramping all over—she wondered if death was any painful than that.

Then she could hear a motor running, water splashing—she was in a yacht, or a boat of some kind. She could hear people talking, men and women. She felt them all around her. Fighting over my fate, perhaps?

She felt one painful kick on her abdomen, and she couldn't help but let out a pained groan.

"Ahh," One woman said, "Look who's awake,"

"No fuss, Miss Summink. Everything went smooth. The woman didn't even flinch,"—one man said with so much proud, that to Brennan, it was sickening.

"Good job Seamus. Prepare the anchor; our princess here must go down before someone finds out. We don't want that. Right, Clay?"

Oh my God. Brennan gasped inwardly. It was then when she realized she was held capture by Julia Bernard. If she heard right, she would be gone like a bubble in a wind…No…someone will come. I know they will.

"Eh, Bones get up now," The sound of Julia's voice calling her by the name only Booth was permitted to, made her want to smack her so hard; she'll need a facial reconstruction. "Come on now,"

Before Brennan could compose herself, a pair of hands, strong, but of a female, tugged her upward. Next thing she knew, Julia was waking her up with hard slaps on her cheeks.

Pain became too unbearable, and the next hit really woke her senses. Her eyes flickered open, and her feet regained a little strength, enough for her stand on her own.

Brennan could really see her now, and the vast ocean before her very eyes. On a corner, Clay sat cautiously. And for the first time, she had the chance to really take Julia's appearance in. A few inches shorter, thinner, long hair. Her lips curved in an evil smirk, and her eyes reflected only anger, and revenge. The moment their eyes met, her stomach churned.

"I don't know why you are doing this, Julia."—she cried out, hand on her stomach. It was the only spot that seemed to her from where pain was radiating. "I'll give you all my money. I just want to…"

"Money?" She chuckled, "I don't need anything from you. Well, just your life, I guess,"

She backed away, only to be betrayed by her own body. Another sharp laugh came out of Julia's mouth, and with each moment, she felt herself get weaker and weaker.

"Please I…" Brennan pleaded like she had never pleaded before. Death seemed close this time. Too close, she could already smell the foul odor of her own body rotting beyond recognition.

"Shut up!"—She yelled so loud, the old yacht seemed to shake. "Take her to the cabin Clay. I'll let you know when we're ready to go."

Hesitatingly, Clay followed. Brennan realized he grew thinner. Too thin for an FBI agent. She figured Julia had done something to him when he let her go. And so Brennan knew he wasn't going to free her again.

"What had she done to you?" she watched closely, as he looked down on her. "Starved you? Fed you with drugs?"

He let out a grim chuckle, "Both, you know. But drugs are a better compromise for food. It was all because of you, you know. When I let you go,"

Brennan nodded, "I deserved freedom. And I still do,"

"Hmm,"—he held back a laugh—"Not so sure about that. Now get in," He shoved her to an empty, cold box-small room.

In a minute, he was gone. Brennan never thought she'd be back in that same place. Wishing for help she didn't even know would come, while locked up in the middle of nowhere.

"I'm sorry Booth,"—she heard herself apologizing.

-BONES-BONES-BONES-

He couldn't help but notice the cold glares he was getting, once he entered the secured premises of the Jeffersonian. Even Angela had a cold shoulder on him, and Booth knew he deserved it. Damn, he thought he didn't even deserve Brennan, or any of them.

Once on the platform, Cam met them halfway, fear evident in her milky brown eyes. "Booth, what happened?"

"She left the apartment…" he started off, but was immediately barged by Hodgins. His son who was clutched in his arms seemed to understand the situation. Michael kept an innocent pout on his Montenegro lips.

The man had serious concern for Brennan. "And why did she leave?" said Hodgins, more like suspicious other than investigative.

"Jack,"—Angela warned; a hand on her husband's shoulder. But it wasn't so hard for Hodgins to know that his wife felt the same way towards the agent in the room. And Angela knew better.

If it was any possible, Booth melted in guilt. "I know. It's my fault she left. But I will find her. Damn, I'd even take my life so she'd live." Sincerity was the only tone everyone in the room could decipher. "—but I can't do that without you, and your squinty minds."

Some things never change.

Slowly, but surely, the ice was melting away. Everyone seemed to be squinting at the situation in their own ways. For a moment, they were all silent. Booth couldn't help but grow agitated. What's taking them so long? It was Angela who first took a step. "Make this right," She said in a voice he swore he never heard before.

"I will," He replied reassuringly.

"Cut the drama, let's all get started people," Cam broke the awkward silence that was growing once again. "Booth, do you remember anything significant? You know what I mean?"

"This," Booth acted without even thinking it. His instincts were all over the place, and he was grateful. "She wrote this when she left,"

Angela took the tissue paper, and placed it beneath the camera. It was then reflected to the monitor. And it dawned on them. "I don't think this could help us, Booth."

"Do you remember anything else?"—one of them said. His mind was too occupied to know who, but that didn't matter.

He thought deeper, and deeper, his brain hurt. Clothing, apparels, bags, paper, pen…Pen! "If she took one of my lucky bags, we could track her!"

"Wait, lucky pens, you mean…" Angela squinted, completely left out.

"I had those pens from the army that could help us track the other rangers in the field. If she brought my pen along with her, we could track her down. Ange, can you do the tracking?"

Angela let out a proud smirk, and the next second, they were all jammed in her office. "Serial number, please,"—she asked, and Booth immediately typed the digits on the iPad.

"3340-3345fgr67"—he mumbled as he went. "There, go."

Angela worked her magic, tapping away all her tricks. They waited, and it seemed like the longest wait of the day. The app made steady beeps and ticks, as its master browsed and browsed.

"Is it working?" Cam couldn't help but ask.

Angela looked over her shoulder, "Yes, it is." She replied, barely audible. By each second she grew more and more accurate, that the others in the room could make out maps, and streets and water now.

"They are in a low signal area. Probably here," she zoomed in on the ocean. "Retype the numbers Booth,"

Confused, but compliant. Booth did as told, and the next tap Angela made led them to a specific location. Everyone in the room let out a relieved sigh. "Good work, Ange," Booth rewarded, and jotted down the GPS location. In the middle of the ocean.

"Now go, Booth. It's your turn."—Hodgins led him out. "You stay here, Ange. I'm coming with Booth,"

"Wait!" Angela protested. Both men let out a sigh. She picked up her gadget, and handed it over to Booth. "Take this. I saved the map to Brennan."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"Securely locked up, Clay?"—Julia asked. Clay stood lifeless in physique.

He gave a small nod. Mason set up a 200 hundred kilogram anchor, and prepared thick twines on the side. By just looking, Clay knew what they were up to.

"What's the time?" Julia asked again.

"Seven thirty one," Mason replied. "About time, Miss?"

"Ugh, a little longer." Julia smirked. "It's always nice to see the woman suffer,"

Mason protested, "That will give her friends more time in hunting us down,"

"Well," She said calmly, "We make sure they never get to their friend alive, easy as that big boy,"

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Hi there! So that's part 1 of our ending. Please tell me what you think! :)

I wonder if anyone will still read this. It had been a month or so since my last update and I am so sorry for that! College has been really demanding. I have exams today, so wish me luck!

I hope you like this chappie :) Review please! Constructive criticisms are so welcome, but flames are a no no.