The first thing Brennan noticed as she regained consciousness was the intense pain washing over her body.

Her head was throbbing horribly and her wrists had been unceremoniously wrenched behind her back and tied together. She felt cold metal underneath her as she struggled to move into a more comfortable position. Pausing to rest, she heard the faint roaring of a moving car from an open window. After slowly opening her eyes, she assessed her surroundings, her mind in full survival mode. Struggling to contain her surging fear, she gave herself a pep talk. Calm down...breathe. Be logical. What is going on? How badly am I hurt? Focus...

Her hands had been double bound with what seemed to be a waxed rope, which was tied in multiple knots. It felt as though a faint trickle of blood had dried on her face, and her hair was matted to her cheek with a sticky substance...probably more of her own blood. There was no immediate pain to her face, indicating that the wound must be on the back or the top of her skull, most likely from where her assailant had struck her from behind as she walked through the cemetery. As she took in more details about her surroundings, she realized she was lying on the floor of a large cargo van, and the driver appeared to be alone.

Fairly confident that her head injury was not of immediate concern, she silently began a full body assessment. Starting at her toes, she attempted to visibly check each part of her legs, relieved to find them apparently intact and unharmed. Her ankles had not been bound together, so she could walk...or even run, if necessary. If the opportunity presented itself, she might be able to get away. Then she wiggled her fingers, and found that, despite the binding, her wrists and hands were uninjured, as were her arms. So I'm bound and have a head wound. I'm feeling slightly disoriented and dizzy...most likely from the blow to my skull. Is that all?

Letting out a quiet breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, she moved on to her torso. Both shoulders felt functional and relatively painless. Her shirt was free of blood except for what had trickled from her face, so there were no other obvious external injuries. As she continued her visual assessment, her eyes landed on her lower abdomen.

Where the baby was being carried...

She closed her eyes and slumped back against the floor of the van.

Oh no...is my fetus unharmed?

Trying not to panic, she resolved to focus on formulating an escape plan, but her mind kept returning to her pregnancy.

She knew Booth had thought she was slightly crazy for wanting to be a mother, and she also knew he had a valid point. She didn't have a life partner, and in the past, she'd been adamant in stating that she was not going to have children.

However, the truth was that she'd become tired of going home to an empty, silent apartment. She just couldn't take it anymore...enjoying an evening meal and exhilarating conversation with Booth, and then spending the rest of the night alone, trying to piece together the specifics of their complicated partnership.

It had become difficult to maintain her professional poise when he was nearby. She'd recently noticed that he made her feel distracted...it felt like her head would start to spin whenever he walked into the room. She'd feel as if her senses were jumbled, and her stomach would seem queasy. It was a feeling that she just couldn't name. Is that what love feels like? An adrenaline rush? Like riding a very fast roller coaster?

It was also quite exhausting. Trying to concentrate on her work when Booth was around had become increasingly difficult, and yet…

And yet, she'd give almost anything if she could feel that unease just one more time...if he would just smile at her once more, or put his hand in the small of her back again…

She scolded herself for being overly sentimental. Let's get back to reality...wishing won't make it so...he's gone...focus on the immediate problem.

Unfortunately, that was easier said than done, as her thoughts quickly returned to the child she was carrying. She hadn't really given much thought about having a baby to fill the void in her life, but once she'd blurted it out in front of Sweets and Booth as they'd played that silly word association game in his office, she'd realized she truly wanted to be a mother. She wanted a little human being who was dependent on her for everything...a child who would love her and whom she would love in return…a child to teach...to share things with. It wouldn't be complicated trying to figure out where she stood with her offspring, and there would be no imaginary lines between the two of them. She would love her child unconditionally. Nodding to herself, she sighed. I already love my child...but what if something has happened to it?

Taking a deep breath, she forced herself back up to a sitting position. There was no blood apparent between her legs, so chances were good that she had not miscarried.

"Okay...okay okay okay…" She whispered aloud to no one in particular. The van began to slow and she looked out the back window to see an opening into a large building. There was no way she could run away, because the rear of the van was flush with the door. Thinking over her options, she sighed, murmering to herself. "I'll have to let him take me out of here and hope to get a chance to escape later."

As the van came to a halt, she lay back on the floor and closed her eyes. Soon she heard the doors open. A pair of arms picked her up roughly and she was thrown over the driver's shoulder in a fireman's hold.

"Alright then, bitch. Let's get you inside. I've got plans for you." The rough voice had a bit of an accent. As Brennan listened, she tried to place it. "German? No, probably Austrian…"

The man carried her into the building and up a flight of stairs, dumping her onto the floor of an empty room before turning to close the door to the staircase.

Walking towards her, he growled at her. "I know you're awake. You can stop pretending."

Sighing, she opened her eyes and slowly sat up, pushing herself back so she could lean against a wall. "Who are you? What's going on? Why have you kidnapped me? They'll be looking for me soon..."

A hulking man stood over her, and using her years of forensics training, she quickly studied his face in case she'd be given the opportunity to identify him for a law enforcement agency. His zygomatic arches were unusually large and protuding. His small brown eyes were set far back into his skull, and were much too close together for him to be attractive. His heavy mandible was square and jutting forward from the rest of his face. A thatch of dark hair contrasted starkly with his sallow skin.

"I'll tell you what's going on, little girl." He leaned in close and smiled unpleasantly at her. "I'm trying to bait a trap for someone. Now you will be the cheese for a very troublesome rat."

She scoffed softly, but before she could say another word, the man held up a finger and opened his phone. "Hush...no more questions. You'll find out what's going on soon enough…not that it'll do you any good. No one will think to look for you here."

He left the room, giving Brennan a chance to look around and get her bearings. The space was approximately 12 feet square, with no windows, one door, and one hanging light fixture that was easily six feet above her head. The empty room had been constructed with cinderblock walls and it had a rough wooden floor. It wasn't at all hospitable, indicating that it most likely wasn't an office. Probably part of a warehouse, or a storage facility...but where? Where am I?

Bracing her back against the wall, she managed to push herself to stand, trying to shake off her dizziness. Her head was pounding and her shoulders were beginning to ache from being bound behind her, but she had to move...she had to be ready to escape if she could.

Exhaling slowly, she willed herself to be calm. She couldn't afford to panic now. She had to get out of there somehow. I have to rely on myself. Booth's dead...he won't be coming to save me. I'm responsible for myself now. I'm an intelligent person...I can do this...Think! What's the next step? You have the advantage! He doesn't know how resourceful you are...

She walked quietly to the door, which the man had stupidly left ajar. He probably thinks I can't defend myself. Pausing, she listened as the man carried on a conversation.

"Are you sure? Okay, then I'll take her with me. I can't risk leaving her to identify me. Yep, I'll leave now. Thanks." He closed his phone and turned back towards the door.

She knew she couldn't let him take her somewhere else. If something had compromised his plan, he would have no choice but to kill her. Desperate, she looked around for something she could use as a weapon, but found nothing. She would have to take her chances and make a break for it. As the man opened the door, she pushed him out of the way. Lunging forward, she barreled past him towards the stairs.

"Hey!" Brennan heard a thud as the man fell to the floor, and she continued her frantic dash for the steps that would lead her away from him.

The next few seconds seemed to happen in slow motion. Sprawled out on his belly, the man's large hand grabbed her ankle as she tried to run away, and she instinctively kicked back at him, causing him to howl in pain as her boot made contact with his face. He let her go, and the disruption sent her flying forward. With her hands still tied behind her back, she careened face first down the stairs.

Each collision stung as she tumbled down the concrete steps. When she finally skidded to a halt at the bottom and fell in a heap, every part of her ached, and her abdomen burned with searing pain. Gasping in shock, her eyes rolled back in her head as a growing pool of warm red liquid formed beneath her.

Oooooooooo

Ignoring the greetings from his co-workers, Booth walked into his office and stood behind his desk, trying to get his bearings again. It felt like he'd been gone for years instead of a couple of months. The room seemed different and yet, vaguely familiar. All of his sports memorabilia was still there...the pictures of Parker...Bobblehead Bobby...everything just as he'd left it the last time he'd been in his office…before his brain tumor was removed. Back when life was normal...

He bit his lip as he sat down and started his computer, trying to focus on the task at hand. He had to find Bones, but he had literally no idea of where to start. She could be anywhere in the DC area...or maybe halfway across the country now. The Council and the Persians would do anything to keep their operations intact, and that included transporting a kidnap victim across state lines. Yeah, that would only be a minor inconvenience for those bastards…

Turning on his computer, he accessed a program, wondering if he could trace her phone via GPS. It was a long shot, given that whoever had taken Bones had probably ditched her phone somewhere, but he had to do something. He couldn't just sit around, waiting for Cullen to throw him a bone. He had to be actively involved in this investigation.

Getting nothing pointing to the phone's location, he was working on another angle when he heard a noise from the doorway.

"Agent Booth?"

"Get the hell out of my office, Sweets. NOW!"

"But Agent Booth, Director Cullen says…"

"I don't give a flying fuck what Cullen says. I don't want to deal with you right now." Booth turned to look at the psychologist, tapping his desk with his index finger for emphasis as he spoke. "Here's the deal. Cullen says you're supposed to help me around the office, so if I need help with something, I'll ask for it. I'll tell you exactly what I need, and that's all you'll do for me, okay? Otherwise, you don't open your goddamn mouth in my presence. You got that? It's 'you speak when spoken to', and that's it."

"I think you're overreacting, Agent Booth…," Sweets began. "I had nothing to do with this unfortunate incident…"

"Nothing to do with this 'unfortunate incident?! It's not like someone broke a fingernail, you goddamn idiot! Bones is missing, okay? She's in terrible danger, and you want to give me sorry excuses?! Son of a bitch..." An enraged Booth pushed himself away from his desk and stormed at Sweets, pinning the younger man against the wall like he was a rag doll. "You lied to me, and then you lied to Bones. You said you'd tell her the truth when I faked my death this time, but no...you had to run another one of your fucking experiments on her, to see how she'd react, right? Well, she reacted, didn't she? She went out to see my grave at Arlington, and she was fucking kidnapped while she was there! None of this would've happened if you'd told her the goddamn truth, okay? So yes, you had everything to do with it…"

"I know, and I'm sorry." Putting up his hands in surrender, Sweets tried to turn away from the angry man in front of him. "Listen, Booth...I had her best interests at heart...I realized that if Dr. Brennan knew you were in hiding, she'd want to find you, and that would compromise the investigation…and then she'd play into Vorstenbach's hands..."

"That's bullshit, and you know it. If you'd told her the truth about why I was in hiding, you know she would've complied with your request not to search for me! Now she's in a life threatening situation! Who knows if we'll find her in time?"

"I did what I thought was best, Booth. We need to get Vorstenbach…that's our first priority. I didn't want Dr. Brennan to be injured in the process."

"Right. So you made the decision, completely ignoring what I wanted. That's on you, buddy." Exhaling slowly, Booth let Sweets go and turned away from him. "Look, I know it's not your fault that she came back early from the dig, okay? But you should've told her the truth about me. I mean, I know she would've refused to have FBI protection, but you could've arranged that on the sly anyway." He walked over to stare out the window. "Do you have any idea how long it took for me to regain her trust after the last time the FBI pulled this 'play dead' stunt? It took months for her to forgive me...and I promised her I'd never put her in that situation again. That's why I insisted that you tell her what was going on this time, so that she'd be able to keep trusting me. She has abandonment issues, you know? And we'd finally gotten past that...until now...and it's probably gone to Hell because of your decision. Most likely you've ruined my whole life with your shit..."

"Agent Booth, I'm sorry, but she caught me off guard when she just showed up in my office unannounced…," Sweets explained cautiously. "I just blurted out the first thing that came to mind…

Booth was livid as he turned from the window to stare down Sweets. "And that right there? That's the real problem, isn't it? Because the first thing that came to your mind was a lie. That's why you have no business trying to run my life or hers either, for that matter. You're nothing but a little fuck up, right?" Clenching his fists, Booth sat down behind his desk, exhaling slowly before looking up at Sweets. "Well, you'd better hope we find Bones in time, because if we don't…" Groaning softly, he closed his eyes, not wanting to consider that possibility. "If we don't...you're gonna be extremely sorry, because I swear to God...if something happens to her, I will end you."

Sweets tried to smile. "You don't mean that, Booth…"

"Yeah, actually, I do. If something happens to her, I won't give a damn about my life anymore. I won't mind killing you and going to jail for the rest of my days, because you'll have deserved it." Booth regarded the young man with a cold stare. "Now, shut the fuck up before I lose my temper."

Sitting down gingerly in one of the chairs, the psychologist grimaced. "I didn't mean for this to happen…"

"That doesn't do me or Bones any good, does it?" Shutting down his computer, Booth quickly rose from his chair and grabbed his jacket, phone and keys. "I need to go to the Jeffersonian…"

"I'll go with you…," Sweets began.

Booth walked past the young man without a backwards glance. "Like Hell you will. Like I said...if I need something, I'll call you. Now...get the fuck out of my office!"

Oooooooooo

To Booth it seemed like he must've stood outside Angela's office for thirty minutes, trying to get up the nerve to go in, unsure if she'd be glad to see him or if she was going to feel the urge to castrate him. He was certain that she thought he was dead, and he realized it must've been her idea for Bones to visit his grave at Arlington. She'd be extremely agitated, knowing that what should've been a bit of emotional closure for her best friend had instead led to Brennan being kidnapped.

Even under normal conditions, it would be awkward to show up and say, '"Surprise! I'm alive!", but given the stress the artist was dealing with right now, Booth knew they had moved from the 'awkward' point to the 'dangerous' point. Angela didn't normally use a gun, and for that, he was thankful, or else he'd really be in trouble. As it was, he knew he was in deep shit, and maybe rightfully so, but he needed her help.

Finally he closed his eyes and quietly stepped into her office, half expecting to get smacked in the face. He stood there for a minute or two before opening an eye and looking around the room. Angela was muttering to herself as she looked up at her giant computer screen. Not wanting to startle her, he cleared his throat. "Um, Angela?"

She shook her head without turning around. "I'm busy, Booth...I'm trying to locate Brennan's cell phone." Then it hit her. She spun around and gaped at the agent like she'd seen a ghost, and Booth supposed that in some sense, she really had. "YOU FUCKING SON OF A BITCH!" She ran at him like a crazy woman, shrieking and crying as she flailed her arms at him. "DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID TO BRENNAN? I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!"

"Okay...okay...yeah, I know...I deserve that." Booth held up his hands in surrender, trying to get her to calm down. "Listen, Angela, I'm so sorry. It wasn't my idea, okay? I've been stashed away at Walter Reed for the last six weeks, in hiding and trying to stay out of trouble. I didn't know about Sweets telling Bones I was dead until yesterday morning. Here, sit down for a minute...please?" He handed her the water bottle from her desk and led her to the sofa. "You know I wouldn't hurt Bones like that...not on purpose. Believe it or not, Sweets thought he was protecting her by lying to her like that." Running his hand across his face, he turned back to the computer screen projected on the wall. "So you still haven't heard from her?"

"No. I've been trying to ping her location from her cell phone…" Finally somewhat calmer, Angela walked over to stand next to him, shaking her head as she gave him the stinkeye. "I can't believe you're really here. Why didn't you call her or send her an email, Booth? She was crushed when she found out...I mean, when Sweets told her you'd died. I didn't think she'd be able to get over it. Of course, she pretended that she was alright when she was here at the lab, but when she was with me...well, let's just say there were lots of tears...and then, you know...she tried to cope like she normally does, by shutting everyone out. I can't believe Sweets lied like that…I mean, it had a major impact on her life...she made some major decisions because of that lie..."

"Listen, I was lied to as well, Angela. The Bureau decided not to tell me that she'd returned from her dig...that is, until I threatened to break Sweets' legs." He was interrupted by his phone ringing. "Booth...Yeah? Where? Jesus...are they transporting her? To the ER...yeah, Washington General. Yeah, I'll meet you there. Hey, thanks for letting me know, Mike. I appreciate it."

Trying to be calm and professional, he slipped his phone back into his pocket, exhaling slowly before explaining things to Angela. "That was my buddy Mike Moran over at Metro PD. A janitor found someone matching Bones' description at the foot of some stairs in an empty building at some sort of abandoned factory complex. They think she either fell or was pushed down the stairs. It seems like she hit her head pretty hard, and since she's woozy, she can't really tell the cops who she is or exactly what happened. She's also got some broken bones and she's bleeding quite a bit, but she's alive, thank God. I gotta go meet the ambulance at the emergency room and see if it's her…"

"Wait...what do you mean she's bleeding? She fell down some stairs? Oh, my God...the baby…" Angela was wobbly and pale as she turned at Booth, and he thought she might pass out. "I hope the baby's okay…"

Booth knew he must've looked pretty stupid standing there in Angela's office with a blank expression on his face. "Baby? What baby, Angela?"

"Brennan is about 6 weeks pregnant, Booth. She...hey, where are you going?" Angela put her hand on his arm to stop him but he shrugged it off as he turned toward the door. Nothing was gonna keep him from what he needed to do.

"I gotta go see Bones."