I'm sorry! I'm such a cliff-hanger nut… but I'll try not to do it…
Much.
Okay guys, here's the thing. Tchitchou (your reviews are amazing, thank you!) posted a comment which made me go back to Ch. 18 (you know, the M rated one). And I realised I posted an older version! So I've updated that (if anyone wants to go back and reread, be my guest ;)
I've tried to answer everyone who reviewed, but the anons I couldn't! I'd just like to mention andrea100 (I'm honoured! Thanks! Oh, and I'm also a total X-phile) and smee, bonesfan11, Chloe, and blc (who's not really anonymous, but she said she'd hold her breath. Hope you made it! ;) and just… oh, everyone, you guys are awesome!
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CHAPTER 25
Time passes strangely when you have nothing to do. No partner, no friends, no work. Alone. Every second is agonising if all that's left is blackness looking at you out of more darkness. Afraid.
But in this small room darkness was kept at bay, because I did have something to do. With mounting horror I watched.
The television screen in front of me told me several things, which I began to process only after Booth had left the frame to 'God dammit Seeley wash your face and calm down' as Cam had put it.
Someone had planted a camera, probably on the walking rail high above from what the angle seemed (it appeared zoomed in but at least 50 or even 60 degrees to the floor level). Someone who either worked at the Jeffersonian or had managed to break inside. My mind churned the information, furiously thinking. It seemed our suspect had taken me, and I was now being held captive until he could think of what to do with me. Because I would already be dead if that was his intention.
What had happened? How had he managed to take me? My thoughts felt scrambled…
And then it all came back.
*
Eight hours ago…
I got home and immediately went to the kitchen and took out the water. My throat was dry with thirst and now that I thought about it I was hungry too. I poured and drank three glasses, ate two energy bars, and sat on the couch. I sat through a half hour documentary without seeing it very much, all the time feeling the exhaustion sink in.
Maybe Booth was right and I should sleep, I felt light-headed and dizzy. Oops, dizzy was inaccurate. I should say "my vision was being impaired by the apartment spinning around me"… wait, that couldn't be right either…
I stood up and walked to the fridge, hoping for another glass of water before dropping to bed. If only Booth were here. He'd tuck me in… sweet Booth with his kind eyes…
Twice my legs buckled under me and I had to slam my fist onto a surface to stand upright. Silly Temperance. So clumsy.
I giggled. Clumsy wasn't accurate either. Too informal.
I drank another glass before I realised that the taste of the water was very, very wrong… a twinge of sweetness that shouldn't be there, and a few bubbles.
Water didn't usually have bubbles, did it? Something was very wrong…
But I didn't make it to the phone, even as I quickly ran to it and fell over, onto the floor with a painful thud. My legs had simply given in, and I found myself trying to shout but only managing "Booth… what's happening to me…?" in a high childish voice, with no one to hear even as darkness covered my eyes and my very bones felt liquefied.
I slept dreamlessly, for the first time in a very long time I sank deep into the world of rest and peace. I was floating, and I forgot why I was supposed to be afraid or alert or even if I should be worried at all.
The warm brown floor swirled around me, the exact same colour as Booth's eyes, so deep and trustful and kind, kind Booth with his strong arms that held me up when it felt like I would fall down… Booth whose eyes were also capable of becoming black and dangerous. But I helped him too. Booth needed time, not space. I could be beside him… So I swam in Booth's eyes as I slept…
Suddenly a shrill sound dragged me out of this state, and I groggily opened my eyes.
The phone was ringing.
I thought I heard sounds in my bedroom, shuffling feet, perhaps? Everything was a confusing blur, and I had no time to wonder who had slipped the pills into my water or why. I dragged myself forward, fighting the pain in my muscles, my scrambled thoughts and the threatening weariness, already clouding my vision again. I focused the remains of my energy in getting to the phone. With my last ounce of strength I stretched my leaden arm and yanked the phone off the small table next to the couch.
With a clatter the receiver fell to the floor, and I heavily put my head next to it and tried to speak.
"Help…" my voice was a low rasp. "I need help, someone's drugged me…"
"Bones!"
"Booth! Help me, I've been drugged, someone's inside my apartment…"
I was beginning to fade out again, but now I heard the quick, loud steps of someone walking my way. He'd been in my bedroom. Creepy crawling stranger. Disgusting, I was angry, he'd better not touch me or I'd rip his head off… or I'd kill him, like I'd done other times…
"Bones, I'm on my way, hold on, okay? Bones, please…"
Focus, Temperance. The baddie would get to you soon. Any last words to Booth?
"It's too late…" Stupid tears wouldn't let me see. Stupid, useless tears for the love I'd never know.
"No! No it's not, I'll find you, okay? I promise, I'll find you and I'll save you, Bones…!"
"I love you…" but although I felt my lips move, no air left my lungs to bring the words to life. And maybe Booth would be sadder if he knew, who knew, right? Oops, said knew twice… should learn to phrase sentences correctly…
"No! Bones, don't give up!"
But I had no more strength. All gone. Booth, I love you.
"No! NO! Bones, that one hair he sent was yours...!"
I looked up and saw a tall dark shape run to me and kick the phone out of my hand. I couldn't help but cry out in pain as I felt him break at least two phalanges with the powerful boots he was wearing.
With the rush of adrenalin the sting brought I managed to shout. "Booth! I love you!" suddenly I needed him to know. Would I ever see him again? "I love you! Booth!"
I couldn't see the baddie's face. Look up Temperance, save yourself, identify the murderer, it's too late for Booth's help now…
"Booth!"
Too used to having a partner, someone to lean on, aren't you? You're alone now, Temperance… and you can't even lift your eyes but you scream your love for this man…?
"I love you, Booth!"
The man slammed his foot onto the frail instrument and it broke. With it, I broke too, and let the darkness take me.
*
Seven hours later…
So the suspect was already inside the house when I entered it. I blocked out the last minutes of my capture, the desperation in not being able to move, my untimely declaration… he wouldn't have heard. Think rationally, Temperance.
Not only that, but the suspect had been to my apartment before to take one of my hairs… from the brush, maybe? … And he'd put it together with the lock of Anne's hair. A clue? Or a warning?
I shivered, as my muscles tried to regain body warmth due to the low temperature of the room. And no other reason. I looked around the room again, trying to remain calm and gather as much information as possible. A small space, white or light grey walls, it seemed. One window, but a thin wood plank had been nailed over it, so no light and no telling what time of the day it was, unless…
Wait. I looked back at the screen and realised the Jeffersonian was ablaze with sunlight streaming through the high windows, besides the fluorescent working lights. So assuming this was a live feed, it was probably morning, or perhaps midday.
None of my friends were on the platform. Booth still hadn't come back from wherever he'd gone to cool down. Just busy people, as usual, but something felt wrong. Everyone looked so serious, so lost… was that because of me? Was I important to them? Obviously my high position in the hierarchy of the lab would have an effect in the case of my disappearance… but there was an emotional connection too. First year students coming to beg for help, interns asking to study under me, other scientists comparing opinions, my friends and co-workers positing hypothesis…
Yes, something was missing.
*
I fell asleep, but not before noticing that my body was still processing the effects from the drugs, so not much time could have passed since my kidnap. I had also realised I'd need food, water and access to a toilet soon. The man who'd taken me would have to provide these things, especially water, soon.
But try as I might to stay alert, I couldn't fight the relief sleep brought.
So I was jerked awake when the door opened, and I didn't have time to see who was the person pushing a young girl into the room.
Her hands were tied behind her back, as were her feet so she fell face forward with a yelp of pain. The man who'd pushed her slammed the door behind her and left us alone in silence. I twisted around to look at her, and she quickly scrambled upward and turned to look at me too.
The resemblance really was quite striking.
She was much more beautiful than I had ever been at her age, but the clear eyes, the dark hair, and pale skin were reminiscent of mine. The underlying architecture told the real story, of course: she had higher cheekbones and her mandible was more narrow than mine.
She brought a whiff of cleanness with her over to me. Recently showered, from the strong smell of the soap and shampoo. She was leaning against the wall and her eyes were wide with fear still holding mine, but she didn't fear me. She was too strong and smart to be afraid of me, or even of the man who'd thrown her like a dirty rag onto the floor.
But she feared for someone else. Her mother, Margaret Stoker.
"Anne?"
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Don't kill me? ;)
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