A/N: Just a huge thanks to the two readers who informed me that I accidently reposted the last chapter. I'm such a spazz that I was in a rush to get out of the house and didn't even notice. xD I really appreciate the heads up though, because I probably would have never noticed it on my own.

So the our heroes are finally reunited. But the drama isn't over yet (which makes the title of this chapter kind of ironic xD), so stay tuned.

And, as always, thank you all for your feedback.

Chapter Forty-Nine:

"It's Over, Bones"

Sully's SUV bumped along the rough and silent roads of Little El Salvador, as he and Booth drove in silence. Booth tapped his fingers impatiently against the dashboard on the passenger's side, wishing he could just flick the siren on, bust into all the houses, until they found the one Brennan was in, and start shooting. If he'd told Sweets that, he would have been concerned, and asked if he had violent fantasies like that often. But Booth had convinced himself that what he'd been feeling the past few days, the anger at the world, and the just wanting to shoot everything and everyone, was normal, due to the fact that Brennan was missing.

"How are we going to find the one house that she's in out of all of these?" Booth asked, finally breaking the silence between him and his former good friend.

"I have no idea," Sully said honestly, with a shake of his head, "listen, Booth. I could lose my job by bringing you with me. Cullen specifically told me to keep you away," Sully had to laugh a little, "obviously, he doesn't know you very well if he thinks anyone would be able to keep you out of anything. Especially when it comes to Brennan."

"Yeah, Bones has been my partner for a few years, she's my best friend," Booth shrugged, playing it off as if partner and best friends were strictly all they were, "Sul, thanks. Honestly. I know we're not really friends, at all, but you've been pretty cool to me through this, and I appreciate it."

"You'd die for your partner," Sully was the one to shrug this time, "that's respectable." Booth half smiled gratefully before he continued, "and I'm not going to leave Tempe with some psychopaths because I'm not your biggest fan. I'm more doing this for her," another short pause came from him, "I still have feelings for her, but she moved on, and I'm trying to too. But, being completely honest, I'd give anything to have her back in my arms."

Booth glanced at him, tearing his gaze from the outside scenery. When he didn't respond to Sully's words, he decided to speak again.

"Do you think I have a chance?" Sully asked, "Do you think she'd ever give me a second chance?"

Booth tensed up a little bit, unsure of how to answer his question without giving away the fact that he and Brennan's relationship had escalated quite a bit since he'd been gone, sailing around the world.

"I don't know," Booth responded, trying to mask his annoyance with the man sitting next to him, "that's not really my place to say."

"Because I was thinking about asking her on a date," Sully admitted, as Booth continued to watch out the window, and look for any houses, or old buildings, that looked suspicious, "I regret not staying with her all the time. I shouldn't have sailed around the Carribean. I should have stayed with Tempe. We had a good thing."

"Sully, she might not even be alive," Booth's voice was low when he voiced the possibility, since it was painful to even think about to him, "and if she is, she'll probably need some time to recuperate after this. Being abducted is traumatic."

"I know," Sully admitted, keeping his right hand on the steering wheel as he looked out the windshield to the road ahead of him, "I'm just trying to be optimistic over here. I know it's possible that Brennan's...but I mean-"

Booth stopped paying attention by that point, when something in the darkness caught his eye through the window. Parked outside an abandon looking house was a little white car, that looked all too familiar. It took him a few minutes to figure it out, but it finally hit him, where he knew that car from.

"Pull over," he said, sharply.

"What? Why?" Sully asked, furrowing an eyebrow in confusion.

"That car," Booth's voice was rough, "that was the same car that someone shot at Bones out of. She's there. In that house."

"Booth, I'm sure more than one person has that kind of car. We can't just go barging into people's houses without any solid proof."

"Sully, I'm telling you, she's there," by this point, Sully was pulled over on the side of the road, able to hear the crickets outside the car at one in the morning.

Sully pressed his head against the steering wheel and let out a long sigh.

"You better be right about this," he muttered, reluctantly going to call for backup.


Brennan woke up coughing, having inhaled some of the dust and dirt off the floor when she took a deep breath. She hated sleeping in this place, because she hated having to wake up, come away from her mind and her dreams, and remember that she was still locked up, being fed minimal amounts of food, and being tortured on a regular basis. After the coughing ceased, she reached up to brush some dirt off of her cheek, her arms aching when she moved them. By this point, most of her muscles ached when she used them, and she was thankful that, at least, she didn't have to move very often in this place. The basement was huge, but it was pitch black, and all looked the same, so she just stayed in one spot, occasionally dragging herself away from the wall and into the center of the floor.

Sitting up straight, Brennan picked up her cup from some time before and sipped on it, only drinking enough to soothe the burning in her throat. As horrible as if sounded, even in her head, she, somewhere inside, wanted to die. As much as she wanted to get justice for Booth, she wasn't sure how much longer she could take this. She would have believed that she'd been down there for a month if someone said it, even though, in reality, it was only about four and a half days. If this went on long enough, she'd just stop eating and drinking. She'd let herself starve to death, or die of dehydration, when she couldn't take the pain anymore.

Brennan was tracing her fingers absent mindedly over some dirt on the floor when she heard heavy footsteps above her. At first, she figured it was just the only two other men who knew she was down there, but then, she realized that it sounded like a lot more than two people clunking on the ceiling above her. She peered up at the ceiling, trying to figure out what was going on. She assumed that maybe Villeda was getting bored with the same old abuse routine, and decided to bring in some more Mara Muerte members to spice things up and join the party. She let out a frustrated breath when she thought about the abuse that was coming her way, only to feel her heart practically stop when she heard the muffled sound of gunshots, and a lot of them too. The sound made her heart nearly pound out of her chest. Did somebody shoot Villeda or Garcia? Or did they shoot someone who came to help her? Frozen in fear, she kept her eyes glued to the ceiling, waiting, and listening closely to what was going on above her.


"Shit," Sully muttered, clenching his arm as the blood seeped through his fingers.

The gunfire had subsided, and Booth glanced around the room at the damage that had been done, surveying it in less than a second. Sully had been shot in the arm and Garcia had been killed by one of the other agents in the house. As for Villeda, Booth had his chance to kill him, but he decided against it. He wanted him to pay for abducting, and possibly murdering, Brennan. He wanted him to rot in jail, so instead of taking the kill shot that he was perfectly capable of hitting, he only shot him in the shoulder, so he couldn't hold onto his gun, and it fell to the floor. When things calmed down, Sully gestured towards Villeda, who had his teeth clenched and was holding his shoulder the same way Sully was holding his arm.

"Somebody cuff that bastard," he barked when he realized he wouldn't be able to cuff him himself in his condition, causing a few FBI associates to immediatly obey.

Once Villeda was cuffed, and being dragged out of the house, the injured Sully let go of his arm, taking a step further into the house, as opposed to following the few agents out.

"Sul, what the hell are you doing?" Booth asked, "go out there and get to the hospital."

"I'm," he paused to inhale sharply, the pain shooting through his arm, "going to find Brennan while everyone else checks the rest of this place to make sure no one else from Mara Muerte is in here."

"No, I'll find Bones. You need to go see the EMT, now."

Sully wanted to help Booth find Brennan, but he knew that he wouldn't be much help with an arm that couldn't be used. With a grunt, he followed a few of the others outside, leaving Booth and the few that were searching the house alone. The others were looking for any other Mara Muerte members lurking around, but Booth was set on finding Brennan.

"Bones?" He called out, as he turned a few corners, searching every inch of every room, "Bones? Can you hear me?"

None of this was making sense to him. Villeda was there, but where was Brennan? He'd covered the entire first floor, while the rest of the agents searched the higher floors, but there was no sign of her. He was in the kitchen when he found a white door, that looked like a closet, and pulled it open to check for her, surprised to see it was actually a door with steps, leading down to the basement. Drawing his gun, which was complete with the flashlight, he crept carefully down the stairs, making as little noise as possible on the creaky steps.

He kept his gun drawn, just incase there was someone else down there, and pointed it around the room, to shine light on the dark walls, which were covered in a thick layer of dirt, indicating that it had not been in use for a long time. Just when he was starting to think the big basement was empty, Brennan accidently gave away her position, huddled into the corner, with a terrified whimper, quickly clasping her hands over her mouth. Booth knew that whimper anywhere, and he knew, without a doubt, that it was Brennan.

"Temperance?" He kept his voice soft, since by the tone of the noise that came out of her mouth, he could tell she was afraid, "Temperance? Is that you?"

Brennan pressed her palms tighter to her mouth, in an attempt not to let another noise slip through, bu failed miserably when another whimper came through her fingers. Booth followed the sound, making sure to keep his distance, so he didn't freak her out, as he searched for the doctor with his flashlight. Brennan knew that she heard Booth's voice, but she often had her mind replace the husky tone of Garcia and Villeda with Booth's warm, soothing, tone, so she wasn't thinking anything of it at the moment. When Booth's flashlight illuminated a piece of her elbow, he turned it fully so her face was dimly lit. He winced when he saw the cuts and bruises covering her exposed skin, all over her face and down her arms. No wonder she was terrified.

"Bones," he kept his voice soft, kneeling down on the dirt covered concrete floor so they were at eye level, even though they were still a distance away from one another, "Bones, it's me. I'm not gonna hurt you."

Brennan pulled her knees to her chest, shaking violently as she backed as far as she could into the corner, wincing slightly at the light from the flashlight, letting a small, sobbing sound rise from her chest, and escape her lips. Booth felt his chest ache when he saw how afraid she was, even of him, and she sunk into the corner in fear. He knew these guys had really screwed with her head. She was not acting like the Temperance Brennan he knew at all. He went to slide forward a little, show her that she didn't have to be afraid, but stopped when Brennan threw her arms in front of her face, a shout breaking through her throat, almost against her will.

"No, no!" Brennan yelped, shielding her face when 'Booth' went to inch closer to her, "d-don't! Don't-don't touch me!"

"Bones," he whispered, leaning down slightly from where he was kneeling on the floor, "it's me. It's just me. I'm not going to hurt you, I promise."

Brennan blinked back her tears, her fingers tugging nervously at the fabric of her dress pants. She realized, then, that this man wasn't going to harm her. He was trying to help her. She had to pinch herself to make sure she wasn't having some sort of realistic dream, breathing a sigh of relief when she never woke up. The dim light from the flashlight lit up his features, causing her to tremble harder, looking at the man she'd thought was dead for the past, what felt like a month.

"Booth?" She whispered, her voice hoarse.

"Yes," he was silently relieved when she realized it was him, and he was helping her, "yes, Bones. It's just me, baby."

Brennan couldn't even complain about him calling her baby, as she placed her hands on the floor in front of her to crawl to him, ignoring the pain surging throughout her body as she dragged herself along. Just crawling the distance to him seemed to tire out her aching muscles, and she could only find the strength to halfway crawl into his lap when he took a seat to offer the option to her, before she collapsed against him. Very carefully, Booth pulled her up so she was fully in his lap, hearing her whimper in pain when he'd put pressure on her bruises. When she felt the familiar warmth, and smelled that scent that she loved so much, Brennan placed her face on his chest, tears streaking subconsciously down her cheeks. Booth held her close, his fingers grazing her back as he tried to comfort her the best he could without touching her bruised and battered body.

"It's okay," he whispered to the crying anthropologist, who was shaking violently in his arms, in a mixture of the cold and her former fear, "it's over, Bones. I've got you," Brennan remained silent, until Booth spoke again, "is there anyone else down here?"

"No," Brennan sucked in a sobbing breath, only to be hushed by the man holding her, his finger pressing ever so gently against her lips.

"Sh, it's okay," he whispered, not wanting her to keep speaking, since she seemed to be in a state of post traumatic stress, "that's all. I'm going to get you out of here as soon as we get the okay from the people searching the house, okay, Bones?"

Brennan nodded, staying silent for a few minutes as she just listened to Booth whisper words of encouragement in her ear, his body warm against hers. She didn't want to wait any longer to be out of there, and never have to see that place again.

"Booth, I want to leave," her sob was loud compared to his soothing whispers.

"Sh, sh, sh," he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to her hair, "I know, baby. Soon."

It was only a couple more minutes before a communicator attached to Booth's holster sounded, getting the all clear from the men above them.

"Come on, Bones, we're gonna get you out of here," he whispered, lifting her into his arms as gently as he could, in an attempt not to put pressure on her bruises, eventually getting her into an almost bridal style position, "tell me if I'm hurting you."

Brennan remained silent as he carried her, slowly and carefully, up the basement steps, emerging outside with her after a long awaited time. The squints were there with the rest of the 'crew' outside the house, incase things didn't go the way they wanted, and Brennan turned out to be dead. Booth saw Angela's eyes well up with tears of relief when he emerged from the house with Brennan, who was coughing, practically choking on the breath of fresh air that filled her lungs. The rest of them smiled and looked equally as relieved, Hodgins mouthing an 'oh my God', Zach nodding in approval, and Cam clasping her hands over her heart. Brennan felt slightly overwhelmed by the crowd, just clinging onto Booth until he set her down on the back of an ambulance truck to steady her.

"Can somebody get me a blanket and a bottle of water?" He yelled out to the surrounding people, standing in front of the trembling woman, blocking the rest of the people, and the scene from her sight, allowing her to just focus on him.

When he draped the blanket around her shoulders, Booth wanted to lean down and kiss the cuts that were on her face, but refrained, since there were people around. He hated keeping their relationship a secret, especially at times like this.

"Here," he unscrewed the top of the water, handing it to her, so she could hold it between her trembling fingers, "you need to drink."

Brennan silently agreed, pressing the bottle to her lips. The first drop of water that touched her tongue tasted so sweet and rich, like it was the best thing she'd ever tasted. She went to tip the bottle back, suck it down in only a few seconds, until she felt Booth's hand over hers.

"Slow," he reminded her, his words urging her to tip it back down and sip slowly at it, regardless of how much she wanted to just inhale the entire bottle.

Angela pushed through the crowd to get to her friend, tears streaking down her face as she looked at the damaged woman sitting on the back of the ambulance.

"Sweetie," she breathed, "thank God."

Brennan wasn't sure why, but she felt her mind shut down the second Angela spoke to her, the way it would when she was being beaten. She knew Angela was her best friend, but it was almost as if her body was trying to argue with her, and wouldn't allow her to respond to the woman, who seemed so happy to see her.

"Booth," Brennan whimpered, her fingers toying with the bottom of his black t-shirt.

"I'm right here," he promised, "Angela wants to talk to you."

Brennan shook her head slowly, as Booth looked at Angela apologetically.

"She's still trying to adjust," he told Angela, hoping that this incident wouldn't hurt her feelings, "give her a little while. It took her a while with me too."

"No, I get it," Angela promised, "she's just-"

Angela was cut off when the EMT came to examine his new patient.

"Can you tell me what parts of your body hurt the most, Doctor Brennan?" He asked.

Brennan tugged at the bottom of Booth's shirt, silent.

"Bones?" Booth tried. She peered up from where her gaze was on the floor, in response to his voice. "Are you okay?"

"Mhm," Brennan responded, nodding slowly.

"Where does it hurt the most?" He asked.

"My rib cage," she said, softly, "Villeda kicked me there, a lot."

Already having heard enough, Angela walked away from them, disgusted when Brennan talked about the abuse she endured to Booth, even though it was the EMT's question. When Angela reached the rest of her co-workers, Cam was the first to speak.

"How is she?" Cam asked.

Angela shrugged.

"She'll only talk to Booth," she told her, "whenever someone else talks to her, it's like she just, zones out. It's kind of freaking me out."

"Just give her time, Ange," Hodgins spoke up, putting a comforting arm around his girlfriend's shoulders, allowing her to lean into him, "she'll be okay in time. We know she's not completely catatonic, since she's talking to Booth, so that's an upside, right?"

"Yeah, sure," Angela nodded, unsurely, "upside."