So sorry about the rather long wait, shortly after I posted the last chapter I was unfortunate enough to come down with Covid, which while not as bad as many people's cases certainty made writing one of the last things on my mind.
I'm back however. and I do have a small question for y'all
With the busy season hitting at work, I'm about to have even less time to write. so the question is
Would you rather me just post when I get done, so it could be 7 times in 9 days like earlier this month or it could be a multiweek wait like this one, or should I set up a schedule, I was thinking 1-3 times a week depending what y'all think and my work schedule but it'll be constant.
Review or DM me your thoughts.
anyway without further ado chapter 8
There's a knock on the door at nearly 3am. Cam groans waking from her sleep in the guest room. The clicking from Brennan's scooter, she must've heard it. She rubs her eyes and decides to get up, 3am can't be good news.
"Booth?" Brennan hasn't opened the door all the way, but Cam, standing at the end of the hall, can see the agent isn't in good shape.
"Let me come in Bones," he slurs.
"You're drunk, and it's late. Go home to Hannah."
"I love you Bones."
Brennan physically flinches at the words, "I already told you, Booth I don't… we can't… you told me you loved Hannah." she trails off.
He takes this as an opportunity to kiss her, "No, I don't," Brennan all but falls back, hissing when her back hits the back of the couch.
Cam figures this would be a fine time step in if she wants to sleep. "Seeley, it's late, what are you doing here?" She crosses her arms, watching her old friend lean on the doorframe to stop from swaying.
"What are you doing here Camille?" He responds angrily.
He's fidgeting in a way she all too easily recognizes, "Have you been gambling Booth?"
"Not your business." He growls
"Go home Booth."
"But-"
"Go home, til you're sober."
She knows she should be more worried about Booth than she is but she knows he'll get home well enough, and she can hear Brennan's attempts to keep her breathing calm which after the last few weeks is definitely her bigger concern. She closes the door on the agent.
She turns to the anthropologist, Brennan's eyes are wide as she breathes quickly, Cam's brain quickly jumps to a panic attack. She takes a step towards her friend only for her to step back again, running into the couch again.
"Brennan," She freezes not coming closer, "How can I help?"
"I'm fine," Brennan says quickly shaking her head.
"Okay," Cam nods, "Okay, how about we both sit down then, looks like you hurt your back."
Brennan nods though instead of moving to sit on the couch she sits as quickly as she can with her leg in a cast, back against the couch. Still breathing heavily. Cam shrugs before sitting down too, "Dr. Brennan is it okay if I get closer?"
Brennan shakes her head firmly, "Please don't."
"Okay," Cam nods, "Is it okay if I go get some replacement bandages then? You're stretching yours out at it'll be best to do tonight."
"That's logical," Brennan nods.
"Okay," Cam leaves figuring the quicker she has something she can do the sooner everything will be better, if even a little.
Even after she returned it had taken over twenty minutes before Brennan had calmed down enough to allow Cam to help her to the couch.
Even after that Brennan took several minutes to give her hand out. After being a cop for a decade and a doctor and pathologist for many more, it's hard to make Cam shaken from a injury. However when the puncture wound is in front of her eyes harden, tightening her grip slightly without meaning to.
Brennan pulls back with a slight hiss, hiding the cut from Cam. "I'm sorry Dr. Saroyan."
If you had told her a month ago she'd hate hearing Dr. Brennan and her ego, justified it may be, apologizing, she would've laughed, "What? No, I should be more careful." The anthropologist raises her eyebrow, studying her like her bones, Cam clears her throat, "Reading a medical reports is different than seeing it."
"To my understanding the chart was very thorough." Brennan looks down knowing how weak, broken, those records show her as, and that's not even the worst thing she had rolled over and let them do.
"It's…" Cam sighs, "You're my friend, that's the difference." The lab may be Brennan's people, but she's the boss, in some way it's her job to keep everyone safe. She couldn't help at all when they were looking for Dr. Brennan. That guilt would weigh on her for at least the foreseeable future Cam had come to accept, the wounds just confirmed it, "I'm sorry," she adds quickly for letting the guilt overwhelm her.
Brennan hesitantly offers the hand back, Cam is about half done when she thinks she hears Brennan talking, she looks up, only for Brennan to repeat herself, "Pen knives."
"What?" Cam asks stopping midwrap
"He put pen knives through my hand into the floor, that's…" she looks down, offering her boss the other hand, "to stop me moving."
"Fucking bastards," Cam can't stop herself from growling. Without thinking she rests her hand under the deep bruises around the anthropologist's wrist as she starts on the other hand.
"Handcuffs."
Cam gives the mark a soft rub, careful to not hurt her further, "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, Brennan, this was obviously beyond a lot and it's totally okay for you to keep some private for now or forever."
"They liked to put this revolver to my head, and he'd shoot it, somehow it was always an empty. chamber by the end I honestly didn't care. I almost wanted him to get the right chamber," The last sentence was barely audible.
"I'm glad they didn't," Cam replies softly, carefully removing the bandages from her back and chest. She closes her eyes squeezing them shut before opening them again letting them harden, she does her best not to study it but it's far too easy to do, bruises and deep gashes from a whip of some sort, little round burns that look like electrical, and probably the worst part is a deep set of cuts into the anthropologist's lower back spelling out ALONE, Cam frowns but notices Brennan doesn't share the actions behind these wounds, so she doesn't say anything. She very quickly and securely wraps the wounds back up.
Any illusions about how easy this would be fled from the pathologist's mind, the best in the world were beyond too slow to help their friend and now they'll hopefully be good enough to help her.