Title: Deja Vu

Disclaimer: Language, violence

Note: new profile updates.

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Chapter Fourteen: The Road I'm On

Time kept passing on like nothing mattered anymore, and Booth was beginning to think that nothing mattered. He'd lost all sense of time, having had his watch removed and his cell phone left at him. When did the sun set? When did people go home to their families' and enjoy the love and comfort there? One of the most troubling questions was, how long had he been confined in this box? It was hot and stuffy, his stomach empty, his mouth dry. For all he knew it was days since he last ate, or even had a cup of refreshing water. The note had said that Brennan would find his bones. It appeared as though his captor was going to starve him to death. What a slow and painful way to go.

The other question that constantly ran through his mind was whether or not anyone was looking for him. Days had to have gone by, right? It felt like he'd been locked up for eternity. The FBI must have gone over his home, his car, his desk in search of clues to his disappearance. They wouldn't just forget about him. He was important. He was part of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. They should be scouring the town looking for him. But would they ever find him? There was no reason for them to check the docks. This was the kind of place that mobsters hid bodies. It had been a very long time since Booth had dealt with anything that like. He hung his head, they'd never find him.

He couldn't help but wonder what Brennan was doing now. Was she crying over him? Did she even really care? Did her heart stop with fear every time a skeleton was found? Did she even so much as think of him? She had to think of him. He kept thinking back to the day when she picked him up from the hospital, that glint in her eye, it sparkled like a diamond. There had been something on her mind, something she wanted to share with him. Only, she never got the chance and probably never would. He knew that she was strong. After all, she dealt with the disappearance of her parents and learning that her mother was indeed dead. His death would just be another rock in the road.

Feeling deflated he curled up on his side in the fetal position. What was his son doing right now? Had his ex-wife even told him that daddy was missing? Or had she decided to keep it a secret until they found him, dead or alive? He wanted to hold his son. He wanted to take him to the National Zoo to see the pandas like he promised. It had always been his goal to be a good father. But how could he be a good father if he died?

But most of all he found himself wanting to be near Brennan. He wanted to touch her, to feel the smoothness of her skin. He wanted to inhale the smell that could only be associated with her. He wanted to run his fingers through her silky hair and stare longingly into her beautiful eyes.

He began to cry again, his body shaking with sobs. Being confined in this black box was starting to drive him crazy. A year or so ago he had read the story about a CSI who'd been buried alive. At least that hadn't happened to him, though at times he found himself thinking it would be better. The coffin would have been too small to move around, no air would seep in; this damn place was making him feel like a caged animal. He could pace, there was always oxygen, but never a way out. Bits of light would seep through a tiny crack under the door but he was never sure if it was sunlight or the beam of a security light.

Crawling across the metal floor toward the flashlight he prayed that it would work, that it would turn on. He wanted to see the light. Any light would be nice, even the artificial light the flashlight would provide. The beam was weaker than before but it still worked. It gave him a sense of relief and a sense of strength. Finally climbing to his feet for the first time he walked toward the door of the crate. He yelled, making his voice as strong as possible, calling for help. Hoping that anyone would hear him and come to his rescue. He didn't want to die here. Not like this. There was still so much more he had to do.

For an hour he stood at the door and yelled. Finally, his throat soar and his energy gone he slumped to the floor. No one had heard him. No one had passed by and called out in response. It was as though he was in other world, another dimension. He didn't exist anymore. Turning off the flashlight he curled up on his side to do the only thing he really could do; sleep. He resolved to continue his plea for help when he awoke. There would be no more pity. From now on he would use every waking minute to yell for help. When his energy ran out, he'd sleep to recharge his batteries. Eventually someone was bound to hear him.

Closing his eyes he saw Brennan's smiling face. She stood outside, dressed in a lovely light blue cotton dress. Her hair danced in the breeze. He heard the laughter of his son and he kicked a ball toward Brennan. They were this happy little family, playing together outside on the lush green grass of the backyard. It was the perfect picture and he clung to it until his mind shut off, pulling him into the world of deep sleep. At least he escaped the pain and his confines for another day.