Many apologies for not updating sooner (especially to those of you who insisted that everything would go to hell in a hand basket if I didn't do so soon), I had to leave town for a couple days and I had no computer. And then I was distracted by all of those other wonderful fics on this website. But I want to thank you for your overwhelming and FANTASTIC reviews. Congrats on breaking the 200 mark.
Disclaimer: I like to play with them, but they're not mine (unfortunately).
Ch. 12 – On the Road
Staring up at the man whose face was hidden by the hood of his sweatshirt, Brennan suddenly lost her disinterest in what happened to her. This lack of control terrified her and she turned her terror into anger. As the man knelt down and stroked her cheek, she swallowed her revulsion.
Taking a deep breath, she began to shout, "HELP! HELP ME PLEA…"
Her cries were aborted when the man socked her in the jaw, the impact stunning Brennan. Stars were literally bursting on her sight, something she hadn't seen since her initial self-defense training. The man bent close to her ear and whispered, "You want to stay conscious, don't speak. You pull another stunt like that and I'm going to have to gag you, got it?"
Brennan nodded but her eyes were blazing with fierce anger. Her attacker pulled back from her and laughed when he saw the murder in her eyes.
"You're a feisty one, aren't you? That's good. The last girl… she cried a lot. She went too easy. But you'll fight, I can tell. I'm so glad."
Brennan's outrage rose at this last but she was again filled with terror when the man scooped her up off the ground and threw her over his shoulder.
"Booth!" she whispered harshly.
Booth heard the panic and fear that was wrapped inside that one word and ran faster. When he answered his voice was forced and uneven, "What's happening, Bones?"
"He… he picked me up and he's carrying me…" she suddenly stopped speaking.
Booth tapped his earpiece and then demanded loudly, "Clark! Clark, what happened? Is she still connected?"
"She's still there," Clark reassured him, ignoring the petrified gaze of Angela who was seated next to him.
"Bones?" Booth asked, as he spotted his car parked at the corner.
There was no response, but Booth heard a grunt and then the familiar metallic sound of handcuffs closing. It was quickly followed by the thud that only a body could make and finally Booth heard the familiar clang of a trunk lid closing.
"Bones?" he asked again.
"I'm here. He just put me in the trunk of his car."
"Did you…"
"Dark green Honda Civic. Virginia plates. We were almost at the corner of 34th and M Street. The car's just started. We're moving," Brennan said in that detached tone she used when she was analyzing remains on her table.
Booth felt an inward appreciation that Bones could still be logical, cool, and collected. Her analytical mind was a definite advantage at this point, he thought as he finally arrived at his behemoth of a vehicle, slid inside and started the engine in one smooth motion.
"I'm right behind you, Bones," he said reassuringly as he pulled out into traffic.
Before he could even ask, Clark was feeding directions in his ear. Despite everything he had done that night, Booth was still grateful for the agent's foresight in giving Brennan the tracking device that allowed them to follow her closely. Pulling to a halt at a stoplight, Booth spotted the car holding his partner two vehicles ahead of him.
"I can see your car, Bones. How you doing?"
"I still can't feel my limbs, I'm handcuffed, and I'm locked in a trunk of a car. But otherwise I'm fine."
Booth smiled briefly at Brennan's dry humor but quickly became serious again. Even though he was so close to her, there were still a million things that could go wrong. A million things could happen to her just outside of his reach and it angered and frightened him.
"So, what's the plan for getting me out of here?" Brennan asked.
Clark answered before Booth could even open his mouth, "We're going to have to wait until you get wherever you're going. If Booth tries to bust you out of that car trunk right now, too many things could go wrong. Not to mention that seeing a large, angry man stalking towards his car would undeniably scare our killer. So you're just going to have to wait this one out, Dr. Brennan."
Booth tightened his grip on the steering wheel. Although he hated to admit it, Clark was right. There was nothing they could do for Bones at that moment. They were going to have to wait. As he turned onto the highway, now three cars behind the one that Brennan was stowed in, he realized that the trip might be longer than originally anticipated.
Brennan bit her lip as she stared into the darkness. Nothing was visible but she found keeping her eyes open gave her a sense of control in a situation far beyond controllable. Inwardly, she was almost grateful that she couldn't feel her limbs at the moment. In this small space they would have cramped almost immediately. However, she knew that the numbness would be followed by something worse which she mentally skirted away from but then faced head on. She couldn't afford to ignore this and she needed to tell Booth before it was too late. But before she did there was something else that needed to happen first.
"Ange," she said softly.
"I'm here, sweetie."
"I know. I need you to do me a favor."
"Anything."
"I need you to get out of that van. You can go back to the lab, back to my apartment, you can even just sit in your car and wait but I need you to leave that van."
"Bren, why… what did I… why?"
"There are some things that are going to happen and I don't want you to hear it. I don't want anyone to hear it but I really don't want you to hear it."
"Sweetie, are you sure?"
"I'm very sure. Please do this for me," Brennan almost pleaded.
"Ok, hon, I'm getting out now. I love you."
"Love you too."
Brennan heard the distant sound of the support van door sliding open and then slamming shut again. The latter sound overlapped with Booth's voice in her ear.
"Bones, what's going on? What do you know that would cause you to send your best friend away?"
Brennan was silent for a moment, trying to think of the best way to divulge the information and decided that her usual straightforward manner would serve her best.
"Bones?" Booth prompted in her ear.
"Cicatrix acerbitas doesn't only cause temporary paralysis," she began.
"What else does it do?" Booth asked warily.
"One summer during my undergrad…"
"Bones, do you really have to tell a story?" Booth asked, attempting to sound flippant and failing miserably, the fear blatantly obvious in his voice.
"Yes. One summer during my undergrad, my boyfriend, Nick, and I went on an archaeological dig in Uruguay. There was a large burial site and it was a dream experience for both of us. On one of our days off, we went to a remote village about thirty miles from our campsite. There were only about seventy people who lived there and they were preparing for a hunt," Brennan paused and winced as she banged her head when the car went over a pothole.
"Preparing for a hunt?" Booth repeated, prompting her to continue and using all of his restraint to avoid asking about the light bang he'd just heard. She'd only deny everything to make him feel better and he knew that that would only make him feel worse. Tightening his grip on the steering wheel, he kept both eyes on the Honda that was now in the right lane, two cars ahead of him.
"Yes. They were using traditional means and weapons. The spears fascinated Nick, who was planning on becoming an archaeologist. There were several lined up along the wall of a house and he picked one up, knocking over a few of the others in the process. One of the spears that fell cut his arm. It wasn't deep but it was enough. The spear points had been boiled in Cicatrix acerbitas.
"Within minutes, Nick couldn't move. I was frightened. I didn't know what to do. It was too far to drive back to our camp for help and there was only a first-aid station there. A real hospital was over ninety miles away. About half an hour after Nick had cut his arm, one of the men in the village gave Nick a branch to bite on. When Cicatrix acerbitas begins to wear off it causes an unbearably painful burning sensation in the muscles. The pain only lasts about ten minutes but when Nick and I talked about it later, he said it felt like hours. I've never seen anyone in such pain before. All I could do was sit there and hold his hand while he weathered his way through that agony. I just thought you should know."
At the words "unbearably painful", Booth had felt a lightening sharp pain cut through him. Although Brennan's entire speech had been delivered in that detached, scientific tone that she used when detailing injuries to a corpse he knew that she was afraid. And he knew from personal experience that the fear of imminent pain was frequently worse than the pain itself. As he glanced at the clock on his dashboard he realized that he had been driving for almost twenty-five minutes.
"Bones, we're nearing the half hour mark," he said gently.
"I know," she said softly.
"I just… I want you to know… I'm here. Talk to me," Booth almost pleaded.
"I'll… I'll try," she answered, almost inaudibly.
Booth drove in silence for a few minutes waiting in dread for the first sounds of Brennan's imminent suffering. In a corner of his mind he thought that this was the worst torture he'd ever suffered. Over the course of the rest of the evening he'd discover he'd never been more wrong.
It began as a tingle, similar to the feeling when circulation is restored to a limb, Brennan noted. The tingling sensation quickly coursed through her body and she breathed a sigh of relief at once again being capable of moving her arms, legs, toes, any and every body part that she could. One minute later she was desperately wishing for the numbness to return. Being immobile was far more preferable to this agony. Her breathing suddenly became labored as she strove to keep the exclamations of pain bottled within. She bit her lip so hard that she tasted blood. Soon she could no longer hold her cries in and she let out brief hoarse sobs of pain, trying to limit the sound she made in an effort to protect Booth. In a part of her mind that hadn't been consumed by the overwhelming sensations her body was sending to her brain, she knew that every sound she made would hurt her partner, possibly more than the agony she was currently suffering. Two minutes later, Brennan couldn't form a coherent thought as she writhed in pain.
The hoarse cries resounding in his ear were tearing at Booth's insides in a way he didn't think was possible. In an effort to distract himself from the sobs of pain, he began making a mental list of all the things he was going to do to Clark when he saw him next. There was no doubt in his mind that everything that was happening was entirely Clark's fault and as soon as Brennan was safe he was going to make it his mission to make Clark's life a living hell. He was distracted from his thoughts when underneath Brennan's cries he heard the unmistakable sound of masculine laughter. The son of a bitch was laughing, laughing at Brennan's sufferings. Booth clenched his fists. He amended his list. This bastard came in above Clark as the recipient of his fury.
Brennan vaguely heard the laughter from inside the car and attempted to feel anger towards her captor in an effort to distract herself from her pain but failed. The agony was still too intense for her to spend much time thinking about anything else.
Booth noted with relief that the cries in his earpiece were becoming less frequent and not as harsh. He again glanced at the lighted clock on the dash and noted in surprise that ten minutes had almost elapsed. As Brennan had predicted, it had felt like hours. He then peered out his windows and realized that there was less and less traffic as they moved on. He slowed down and watched the Civic pull away from him, the taillights becoming two tiny red pinpoints on the horizon ahead of him. The road sign ahead of him read "Welcome to Fauquier County, Virginia". A few miles later he noticed a smaller sign reading "Welcome to The Plains, pop. 266". Booth was frowning as a new realization dawned on him when a weak voice whispered hoarsely in his ear.
"Booth?"
"Hey," he faked a smile that she couldn't see, "how are you?"
"I've been better," she said dryly, the exhaustion evident in her voice.
"I can imagine," Booth said, his brow creasing in worry as the distant Honda turned onto a rural road that could only lead into the large farm country prevalent in Virginia.
Rattling and bumping along, Brennan assumed that the vehicle was now going down a gravel road.
"Booth, where are we?"
"Rural Virginia."
"Booth, we need to discuss something," Clark's voice intruded, surprising both the agent and his partner, who had both forgotten that he was listening as well.
"What?" Booth said, equally exasperated and angry at the intrusion.
"Our guy is heading onto some pretty secluded roads based on Brennan's tracking device. These are quiet roads, very little traffic. And I'm pretty sure that you're SUV is going to stand out, even at a fair distance back. It's not a typical vehicle for the area and he's definitely going to notice you. You might scare him and that would not bode well for Dr. Brennan."
"What are you saying, Clark?" Booth asked, already knowing the answer but wanting Clark to say it for Brennan's benefit.
"You need to pull over. Now."
"You're going to leave me?" Brennan asked softly, the gentle plaintive note in her voice cutting Booth to the core.
"I'm not leaving you," he protested as he pulled his behemoth of a vehicle to the edge of the road, "I'm just going to be a little bit further behind you. And I'll be in your head the whole time."
Silence was his only response for a long moment and then he heard Brennan release a deep breath that signaled she had reached a conclusion.
"Tell Angela I love her," she began, "Make sure that Zach finishes his PhDs and don't let Hodgins unleash his bugs in my office. And Seeley, I want to tell you…"
Booth swallowed the aching lump in his throat and interrupted, "Don't you dare, Temperance."
"What?"
"Don't say goodbye. Everything is going to be fine. We'll get you out of this none-the-worse-for-wear and we'll go back to being Bones and Booth, stopping bad guys by day and eating Chinese food by night."
"I'm not… saying goodbye," Brennan protested.
"You're still a horrible liar, Bones."
"Booth, just let me do this."
"No."
"But I don't want you to feel guilty."
"I won't, because everything is going to be fine. I'm only going to be ten minutes behind you."
"Booth, if you've learned anything tonight it should be that a hell of a lot can happen in ten minutes."
He couldn't argue.
How much do you hate me now? I'm pretty mean with those cliffhanger endings. Love writing them, hate reading them elsewhere. Delightful double standard. Anyway, loved it? Hated it? Want to make suggestions? Want to write Booth's list of torturous things to do to Clark? To do any or all of the above (plus, to make my muse and I, review addicts both, very happy) just press that little button.
