Chapter 7 – The Beginning of the End
Bones
Present Day (20 hours after abduction)…
I never thought standing where the sun could kiss my face, the wind caressing my skin, would be what was now a bad thing.
It had been two hours since I had escaped the enclosing metal tin, to only step on to an IED—a literal landmine of bombs everywhere on the barge. The Grave Digger never had any intention of letting me go free. Even passing each of the tests, it always came to this…my death.
"You should be proud of yourself, Dr. Brennan," came the Grave Digger—Heather's—cold and calculated reply.
She had been watching me this entire test. The live feed, all for her viewing pleasure to see if I would make it out.
"Your psychotic," came my only reply.
I had no idea where her recent live camera was placed in order to watch me, and I no longer cared. I had been beaten, buried alive, almost crushed, and now going to face the fact that I was going to be blown to pieces. At least when the time came, I wouldn't feel anything.
"After you escaped being buried alive…I had to prove it. I had to prove that you weren't smarter than me," she continued.
"Except I beat all your tests."
"You can't win against me, Dr. Brennan. I proved that. I win. I always win."
My calves were burning, my upper thighs shaking. "It's not a win if there is a no-win situation. You cheated. You're a cheater. I wouldn't expect anything less from a serial killer."
"Is there anything you want me to tell your friends? I will be seeing them again soon." I set my jaw, not taking the bait. "Oh, to look at each of their faces and listen to their concerns when I am the very person behind the act." She paused. "How about Booth? He's just a mess these days."
"Got to hell!"
"Good-bye, Dr. Brennan. I would say it's been a pleasure, but we both know that really isn't true."
Now, all I have is time. Time to think about everything leading up to this moment. The time I will miss out on. I let my head fall backwards, my eyes closed as I look towards the sky. I wonder about the things I was too busy to make time for up until now.
Will Angela and Hodgins get married?
How will Zack do when he finishes his doctorate?
Will Cam be able to keep the team together after I am gone?
Will Booth be able to move on without blaming himself?
The questions swirl around in my brain, but even though I know I won't get the answers to these questions, I can't help but only blame myself for needing to ask them in first place.
I find myself standing here, instead of going through a catalog of all of the wonderful things about my life—the life flashing before your eyes—as Booth would call it, I find it empty, sad, and full of regrets.
I know it's the bodies reaction as an acceptable response to the danger and situation I am finding myself in, but I find that as I list all my achievements and everything, I am most proud of, it's lonely in that I have failed to make those emotional connections that Angela and Booth always tried to make me understand were important.
Emotions clouded logic. Emotions had no business or place in science. As I found myself standing here…alone and unsure of when my last second might be…I find that emotions are the only thing I have left. The only thing keeping me company.
Why is it, all I can think about are the regrets that I have? The shots and chances I didn't take. My inability to let my stubbornness go, because of the pain of my past, and the worry of the pain I could experience again if I were to open myself up like I had before.
A sharp prick of longing filled me. A longing for the things I want and I know I can't have. How in a matter of minutes had my entire world just got turned upside down?
What I wouldn't give to see Angela's smile. I smile wistfully at the thought of never hearing Hodgins step into the lab with one of his outlandish conspiracy theories or his love about bugs. To see how wonderful of a forensic anthropologist Zack would become. In time, he could even match my skills and ability with his success.
What I want the most…is just to see Booth one last time. That even in knowing that I would die, the comfort and security I would feel knowing that with him here, I wouldn't be afraid. His strong presence, his ferocity of his beliefs and feelings, and his unwavering conviction that after everything we had been through and gone through together…he still picked me.
"I'd always pick you," his voice said.
I opened my eyes, brining my head back down to lookout in front of me. Booth wasn't there, but it didn't mean he wasn't here with me.
I could picture him leaning in, his shoulder bumping into mine as he gave me a devilish smile. I couldn't help but smile back. "I wouldn't want any other partner," I agreed.
"Do you remember our first case?" he asked.
As soon as he mentions our first case we ever worked together, I feel as if I am transported back to that time. The first time I had with a man where I really felt that pull in me, every time our eyes met.
"How could I forget. You were the most arrogant person I had ever met."
He laughed, shooting me a grin. "You didn't think I was arrogant. You thought I was ludicrous because I believe in things like God and fate."
I offer him a fond smile of that time. "You still are ludicrous."
After a pause he looks over with a teasing grin to his face. "I noticed you were always watching me."
I gasp. "I was not watching. I am a scientist. I was observing your methods and practices."
His eyes sparkled with mirth. "It's okay to admit you were checking out my hotness. I know you wanted me…even then."
I shake my head. "You wish."
He looked at me with hooded eyes. "A man can hope."
I let out long despairing sigh. "Do you…do you think we could have made it work? Could have been something amazing?" I ask in a strangled voice.
I could see a battle raging on inside him on how he was going to answer this question. Was he going to tell me the truth about then and now, or tell me what I wanted to hear since my death was impending? Even as I asked that question, I knew when it came to Booth, you always got the truth. Even if that hurt your feelings, he always gave you the truth.
"Bones…you and I…were special. I know you don't believe in things like fate and soulmates…" he paused as he looked away at the ocean, before he looked me directly in the eyes, "We were always destined to work out. And we are pretty amazing," he said in a tone that told me it wouldn't be argued with.
I felt my cheeks redden. "You always knew what to say to make me feel better."
His face turned serious. "I'm not just saying that to make you feel better, Bones. It's the truth."
I didn't want to argue with Booth. Not now. Not in what were probably my final moments with him. I knew the fatigue had settled in, and how hard it was getting to keep standing here and maintain consciousness.
Last year, when I had been buried alive by the Grave Digger, when Hodgins and I had run out of time, neither one of us gave up. Booth knew that about me, and I knew that about me. I never wavered that Booth would be able to find us and save us. This time, I couldn't expect Booth to save me, when I didn't have it in me to even save myself.
"Don't do that," he said, anger and hurt twisting his expression.
"Don't do what?" I asked genuinely confused.
He drew in a gigantic lungful of air. "Give up. Like there isn't a chance we won't get through this."
I didn't want to upset Booth, but we both had to be practical—logical—about the situation we were facing. Everything in me wanted me to look away at my next words to him, but I just…couldn't. Not with so little time left.
"Booth, we have to realistic that there is no happy ending this time around."
"No." His breathing was hard, his chest heaving. "We haven't survived a serial killer, me being blown up, shot at, and you being buried alive for you to die now," he said with a certainty. "I won't let you die today, Temperance."
A hot bomb went off in my chest. Even though I knew the chances were impossible, I still believed him. There wasn't anything that I didn't think Booth could do.
A single tear slipped my eye, as I released a ragged sigh. "I'm afraid you're just a figment of my imagination. Trying to compensate the things I wish I could have said to you knowing that I never will."
He looked angry enough, that he could challenge Superman with gathering every single explosive on the barge before it could go off without so much as an effort. "This isn't the end, Bones."
"But if it were—"
"No!" he said, cutting me off.
The vibration of his voice caressed my skin causing goosebumps in its wake. I knew when it was best to let things go for now. I smiled as an attempt to lighten the mood. "The moment I got in the cab and blamed it on the tequila…that was my first regret ever."
Booth gave me a filthy smile. "It would have been great."
My own smile turned sheepish. "It would have. It's why I didn't. I don't think I was ready for someone like you," I admitted quietly.
Booth came to stand next to me, our shoulders almost touching as both of us looked out onto the horizon. The sun starting to lower in that it would be dusk soon. If I could even, make it to dusk.
"Booth, I'm scared."
Booth's eyes were full of earnest. "Don't be scared. Everything will be fine, Bones. You trust me, right? You trust that I got you?"
I shook my head that I did indeed trust him. Of course, I trusted him. I needed him to understand though. "I'm not scared of dying," I proclaimed. "The explosion…I won't feel a thing. I know that. I'm scared that you will forget all about me. That I was just a passing moment in your life. In everyone's life."
Frustration and sadness filled his features. "You could never be a single moment, Bones. You're my soulmate. You just don't know that yet."
I smiled; even though he knew I didn't believe in things like soulmates. When he looked at me like he was, talked to me like he was, it was hard not to consider or believe what he was saying was true. What he truly believed deep down in his own soul.
"Bones! Bones, can you hear me?"
"Booth?"
I looked around, because I swear, I could hear him so clearly. Clearly, as if he was actually standing right next to me. Not the fictional version I knew my mind created to help me cope with the situation.
"Bones, listen to me. I know where you are. We are headed your way, right now. I need you to just hang on," he said.
The notion should bring me so much comfort, but I knew that wasn't going to be the case. Even if Booth got here in time, if I could hang on…there wasn't anything he or they could do. I was the Kent boys' case all over again. Nothing anyone would—could— have done would be able to save me.
"Booth, it's not going to matter."
"Don't talk like that, Bones. It will. I promise, I'm on my way. We should be there within the hour," he confirmed.
"Booth, listen to me," I pleaded. "The barge is rigged to blow. I am standing on what seems like some kind of homemade pressure plate IED." I paused, letting out a sigh. "No one can get on or off the ship."
It was silent on the other end of the phone, as I let him process what I had just said. What I already knew to be true. What I had come to terms with since the moment the metal beneath me slid into place activating the hundreds of pounds of explosives under my feet connecting to the C4 all around the ship.
After another minute of silence, I called out, "Booth?"
His voice held a note of determination. "Just hang on, Bones. That's all I need you to do. Just…just don't give up."
The feed cut out. I was once again alone with my thoughts. An hour didn't seem like a long time, but in the scheme of what I knew what my body was capable of being able to do at this point, it felt like an eternity.
All my life, the hours I put into school, work, the Jeffersonian, and uncovering and studying everyone else's culture and way of life…and I hadn't even devoted an ounce to my own life.
Booth was the protective type. Always protective both physically and emotionally when it came to me and our partnership, and even with his unshakable faith that everything would turn out ok, I still couldn't stop that fear that when I looked back at my life, what had I really accomplished?
My name would be in studies and reports for years to come. I'm sure I would get plaques for my studies and my work. Outside of my professional work, what kind of mark did I make on everyone else's life? How quickly will everyone be able to move on, find someone, love someone that is easy to love? The fact that I am seeing all this when it becomes too late… makes me wonder if all I had put into my academic life was worth it.
Booth is handsome. He's strong, caring, honorable, and trustworthy. Everything in a mate that anyone could want. How lucky that person will get to be when they receive his love and get to walk through life with him. Have his children. Get to grow old with him.
It could have been you.
A tear slips down my cheek. I thought back to the first case that Booth and I worked. I thought a lot about that case in these last moments. Even the days I had too much on my mind and couldn't sleep, I wished that I could just be different. Let my guard down. Let myself be capable of love.
Booth had been so arrogant and cocky—like his belt buckle suggests—yet he was brilliant and his thirst for justice was incredibly attractive.
We were oil and water, yet, when we kissed, it was every ridiculous line in a movie or written words in a book. My own books included. Everyone would always joke with me that Kathy and Andy in the book were Booth and me. I lied and said it was just fiction and it wasn't about us…but that wasn't true. In the book, I could give Kathy and Andy what I had been too scared to try. I had never felt that way about someone before. Those feelings so strong and so quickly.
Booth always joked about fate, and while it's an interesting juxtaposition—even though there is no scientific approach to measure—I can't argue away his point either. Even I have to admit that it's not all just chemical reactions and body responses. With Booth…it's just magic.
"It's the delirium," I muttered to myself. "You're dying and now you're saying crazy things."
My legs twitched again, this time, taking everything in me for my knees not to buckle. One thing I knew for certain, I wasn't going to be able to make the hour.
As I look down at my feet, something catches my eye. Something I hadn't noticed before now. The IED plate underneath my feet has a wire that is hanging out the side. I'm no expert on defusing bombs in anyway, but I had read something somewhere that depending on the device I could potentially find a way to either fix the mechanism in place, or short circuit the wires so I could reroute the device to attack some area of the device.
I looked around my feet, or anywhere in the vicinity that I could reach without shifting any of my weight to see off the pressure that might be able to fix the mechanism in place. This wasn't like Indiana Jones; I couldn't just shift weight in place. The plate would most likely lift and blow before I could fully make the transition. That means the option to fix the mechanism in place wasn't going to work.
However, with the wire sticking out, that might just give me the opportunity to short the wire into attacking another area of the device. Maybe enough seconds to jump from the IED pressure plate into the ocean before the whole ship were to blow. It would be a long shot—probably wouldn't even work—but I had to try.
The voice in the back of my head started asking the questions on whether this could be a trick. Could it be that easy? Did the Grave Digger leave this wire exposed on purpose to entice me to make an attempt? Then again, did the Grave Digger actually think I would be knowledgeable to even try and diffuse a bomb?
This whole kidnapping had been a serious of tests. Situations where I should have died and did not. This most recent, it wasn't meant for me to survive. That was why Heather gloated in her belief that she won against me.
I won last time when I shouldn't have won…maybe—just maybe I could do it again.
I looked back down at my feet and the IED, along with the exposed wire. There was a metal plate covering the top, but where the wire exposed, if I could crouch down and keep my weight steady, I could possibly see the entire mechanism of the device from the side. Exactly where the wire was exposed.
I didn't know much about bombs. I had read a few research studies around the inner workings of bombs and why and which explosive devices were used during each of the wars. Which explosive devices made the most kills. Which were most effective for maximum damage. Which created enough hesitancy and strategy to make the enemy retreat but allow to maintain occupancy.
To my left, I noticed a shard of glass, and a piece of loose foil paper that must've gotten loose when Heather put together the rest of the bombs. Slowly, I started to lower until I was balancing on my haunches, making sure that I was keeping my weight steady not to impact the pressure plate in any way that would cause the device to detonate any earlier.
I felt my arm pull as I reached out to try and grab the foil, just at the end of the reach of my fingers. I could feel the coarseness of the foil as it grazed my fingers, before I attempted one final reach and was able to pull it in.
Maintaining my balance, with my right hand, I maneuvered the wire to the side, using both the shard of glass and the foil to create a reflective surface to see the entire explosive device underneath.
My heart sank, when I saw the reflective light of red numbers peering back at me. The bomb had a timer. Of course, it did. The Grave Digger had it all planned out. Even if I could attempt to stand here or give the F.B.I enough time to try and find a way to attempt to rescue me, she would make sure that it didn't happen.
I win. Were the words that repeated in the back of my head before Heather ended the transmission.
I had fifteen minutes left before the bomb went off. That would mean that Booth would probably just make it in time to see the fireworks go off, but not enough time to prevent it from happening.
I tried to put the notion to the side, I had already come to terms with the fact that I was going to die, but this only confirmed it. I maneuvered the glass again to make sure I was able to see all of the inner workings when I noticed the switch just underneath the neatly wrapped wires. Three wires to be exact.
It could be possible that I could potentially trick the wires for just long enough that I might be able to get a few steps and leap off the barge before the device exploded. It might not do much. I would most likely still be blown to bits, or it might not even work…but it was a chance. It was the best chance I could get.
For the next five minutes, I worked on my best guess from what I could remember and see in past historical research. All I was left with, was connecting the two wires together and then making the leap.
I hadn't heard from Booth again, and I was sure they still didn't have the ability to hear me through the feed unless they were tapped into it. If they were still monitoring the feed, they would at least see what I was attempting to do in these last ten minutes.
The clock already ticked under ten minutes.
"Booth! Booth…if you can see me or maybe hear me…I need you."
There was silence for about another thirty seconds before I called out again. After another thirty seconds—now less than nine minutes on the clock—I heard the familiar crackle and then Booth's voice.
"Bones, we are almost there. We are ten minutes out," he informed.
I could hear the loud thump thump thump of the blades, figuring he was on the helicopter and on his way.
"I don't have ten minutes," I advised.
"Yes, you do. I know you do. You can do this, Bones. Just a little longer and then we will get you out of there."
I know I gave Booth a hard time about his unwavering faith, his ability to believe that anything was possible even in the most impossible of situations…and I hoped that he never lost it. It was one of the things I admired most about him, even if I didn't believe or agree with him.
"No Booth…we don't. I have less than eight minutes before this entire thing blows. The Grave Digger wired a timer to go off. It's set to go off here in almost seven minutes."
I could hear noise and shuffle on Booth's end, just as I heard him yell at the pilot to get the helicopter to go faster.
"Bones, we are working on it. We will find a way. We won't let the Grave Digger win."
His voice was determined. It was no wonder why he was probably so successful as a sniper in the military, and so successful as an F.B.I Special Agent. Seeley Booth didn't know how to fail and didn't know how to take no for an answer.
I wiped a bead of sweat from my forehead, my hands clammy as they held onto the two wires in my hand.
"I don't want to talk about the Grave Digger in what may be my last few minutes on this earth."
His large sigh and the silence that followed was deafening. After a few seconds, I heard his strained voice ask, "What do you want to talk about, Bones?"
The clock ticked under six minutes.
I could hear the strangled edge in my voice. "I've had a lot of time up here to think, Booth. Think about my life. My work. My regrets."
His voice was calm, as if he was simply just walking me through the easiest of problems. "Regrets? Nah, you don't have any regrets. You're the smartest, bravest, and best partner anyone could have. No regrets."
I shook my head, and even though I hoped he could not only see me but hear it in my voice as well. "I have one," I replied simply.
"Bones…"
A tear slips from my eye, and I let it fall since I am still holding the wires in both my hands. My calves are cramping even worse, and as it is…if this does work, and I am able to give myself a few seconds of a head start, I am not even sure my legs will work properly to propel me off the barge.
It was now or never.
"Booth…I'm so glad you pushed me to take that case with you. The case with the senator. I'm glad you didn't let me say no."
There was a brief pause. "Me too," he grated softly.
I could hear the dip in his voice, even though he was trying to hide it. Trying to remain strong and collected for me. Always trying to protect me, even here at the very end.
I forced myself not to tremble as I could see the helicopter come into sight. He was less than a mile out from the barge. It was still going to be too late, and I needed to get these words out now. No regrets. I wanted none, when I took my last breath.
"Booth, I never believed that love existed. That it was only something the brain secreted to make you believe in the idea of love. Everything I knew in my world…it turned upside down the moment you walked into my life. I couldn't be happier in this moment to be proven wrong about the idea of love. I don't need proof to know that something is real, and it exists. Sometimes, as you say…it's taking a leap of faith. So, I am going to take that leap now. I want you to know… you weren't just the best partner, but you'd become my everything. I love you. I love you, Booth."
"Bones, I see you. Just do me a favor and hang on…you don't get to leave after telling me all that," he said in a tone that told me it wouldn't end this way.
Tears started to slip from my eyes. "I wish we had more time. Good-bye, Booth."
"Bones! Bones!"
I could see the helicopter in plain sight, the door opening as Booth leaned off at the side. I looked down at the wires in my hand, and the timer on the clock. There was less than one minute. There was no other way. There was nothing that could be done. This was the last shot.
I closed my eyes, took in a large breath and touched the wires together. I pushed to a standing position, with the last of my energy forcing my legs to propel forward as hard and fast as I could muster.
I could hear Booth scream my name.
I heard the explosion.
I felt the heat on my skin.
I jumped.
Everything faded into darkness.
A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter. :)
