(The Man in the Cell)
Thank you for reviewing my story. I appreciate it.
I don't own Bones.
Oooooooooooooooooooo
He'd ordered an FBI team to tail Brennan while Howard Epps was on the loose and in the end they had witnessed Booth trying to save Epps when the convicted murderer jumped from the balcony of Brennan's apartment. Booth had held on to Epps as long as he could, but in the end he dropped the man and Epps died when he hit the pavement below. Agent Ramirez had been in the lobby of the apartment building when Epps had died so he hadn't witnessed Booth's struggle to get Epps to try to save himself, but the sniper across the street witnessed the whole thing and reported that Booth had gallantly tried to save a man who didn't want to be saved.
Booth sat in the dining room, holding a cup of coffee, not really seeing anyone in the room. Brennan wanted to comfort her boyfriend, but no one knew of their relationship and she had to keep her distance. The look of sadness on his face told her that he was upset, but she wasn't sure just how much. Booth had killed many men in the line of duty, but Howard Epps wasn't really Booth's responsibility. The man had tried to commit suicide and Booth had tried to save him. As far as Brennan was concerned, Epps' death was on Epps and no one else and she had told Booth so. Unfortunately, her words didn't seem to reach him and that made her feel like she had let him down.
After Booth had left the apartment, the remaining agents stayed long enough to get her statement then they left. Brennan had wanted Booth to stay, but he'd left before she'd had an opportunity to tell him. Once she was alone, she packed a bag with clothes and shoes and left her apartment.
Once she arrived at Booth's apartment, she found he wasn't there and that worried her. She wasn't really sure where to look for him and it made her sad that she didn't know him as well as she thought she should.
Not willing to just sit still while she waited for Booth to return to his apartment, Brennan washed a few loads of laundry and cleaned the apartment. Once that was done, she realized that it was after ten and still no signs of her boyfriend. Up until that moment, she had refrained from calling him because she'd wanted to give him space if he needed it, but her concern was growing and she was afraid he was too alone. Brennan tried to call him, but she was shunted to voice mail which just increased her anxiety. "Booth, this is Bones. Call me when you can. I don't want to intrude, but I'd like to know if you're alright."
Since there wasn't anything else she could do at the moment, Brennan took a bath and went to bed. She just hoped Booth was alright and that he would come home soon.
Oooooooooooooooooooooo
He sat on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial and stared at the reflecting pool before him. The night was chilly and the jacket he was wearing was barely keeping him warm. There were a few people on the steps taking pictures, but it was late enough that the place wasn't swamped with tourists.
Epps slipping from his hand, falling to his death filled his mind and with it the look of fear on Epps' face as he slowly slipped from Booth's hand. It made Booth feel sick. He didn't have to die. He didn't have to die. He could have grabbed the railing, but he wanted to die. I didn't kill him. I didn't kill him. I didn't kill him.
Like a mantra running non-stop through his mind, Booth tried to believe those words. He had held the man's hand as long as he could didn't he? He wanted to save him didn't he? Epps wanted to die because he didn't want to go back on death row. How was that Booth's responsibility? He was afraid to die, but he didn't want to live either. He just wanted me to feel guilty about his death. He knew that I'd blame myself, the mother fucker. Well, I don't feel guilty. I didn't kill him . . . Did I?
Epps's body sprawled on the pavement below Brennan's balcony kept Booth's mind racing. The serial killer's body had broken when it hit the paving, the blood pooled from his head and body onto the cement beneath him which added more sickening images to remember, more nightmarish images that he'd probably never forget.
I didn't kill him. He killed himself. Booths' phone rang and it startled him. His heart beating wildly, he pulled his phone from his jacket pocket and waited for it to stop ringing. A short moment later, he checked his voicemail, Booth, this is Bones. Call me when you can. I don't want to intrude, but I'd like to know if you're alright.
Booth rubbed his forehead and debated what he should do. He didn't want to talk to anyone, but it wasn't fair of him to shut out his girlfriend either. He would be angry if their situation was reversed and he knew it. Slowly, he stood up and made his way down the steps. This isn't Bones' fault. Time to go home.
ooooooooooooooooooo
The apartment was dark when he arrived, not a sound to be heard except for the heater running. He'd gone to Brennan's apartment after he'd left the Lincoln Memorial, but he'd found her gone. After checking every room, he realized that she'd probably gone to his apartment to look for him. Once he drove up to his apartment building, he found her car parked across the street and he knew she was there. As quietly as he could, he removed his shoes and carried them down the hallway. After he dropped them on the coffee table, he moved into his bedroom and saw his girlfriend sleeping on his bed. After he removed his shirt and pants, he moved onto the bed and pulled a blanket over his chilled body.
She felt the bed move and she knew he was home. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah." Booth stared at the dark ceiling and wondered what he should say. She was clearly concerned for him, but he didn't know how to assure her that he was alright. He didn't feel alright. "I'm sorry I woke you. Go back to sleep."
"I wasn't asleep." Brennan rolled onto her side and placed her hand on his hip. "You were upset and I wanted to give you space, but . . ."
He knew that she was trying to be there for him, but his need for space upset her and he knew he needed to fix that. "No, Bones, I appreciate that you called looking for me. I was over at the Lincoln Memorial and I kinda lost track of time. If you hadn't called me, I'd probably still be there freezing my ass off. Thanks."
She rubbed her hand in slow circles on his hip and tried to come up with the words that would help him, but she knew she didn't have any, just the words she had used earlier that evening. "Epps wanted to die, Booth. He tried to commit suicide. You tried to save him, but you couldn't have held onto his hand forever. He wanted to die. You did not kill him."
"It feels like I did." Booth knew that sounded pathetic, but it was how he felt. He'd had Epps in his hand and then he didn't. Did he give up and let him go or did Epps' weight get to be too much for him? Epps was a horrible excuse for a human being and he'd dared to approach his small son at the carousel. The man had murdered his ex-wife and removed her heart so he could mail it to Angela. Then he'd cut off Caroline Epps' head to continue his sick game. Epps had used that head to almost killed Cam, although Booth knew that his pushing his friend to hurry the autopsy was what exposed Cam to danger and for that he couldn't forgive himself. "This whole thing was fucked up . . . Epps was evil. He was evil and he didn't care how many people he killed while he was playing his games. The sad thing is, I played his game and almost got Cam killed and I may have killed him for it . . ."
"Booth." Brennan listened to every word coming from her boyfriend and she knew he was taking on too much responsibility for what had happened during their search for Epps. "Epps was the one to plant the poison in his wife's skull. If Cam had followed procedure she wouldn't have been harmed. Your pushing her to hurry the autopsy didn't mean she actually had to do that. If it had been me I wouldn't have forgone procedure. As for killing Epps, that doesn't make sense. He tried to commit suicide by jumping from the balcony. You tried to save him, but you couldn't, no one could. He had to make some effort to help you save him and he refused to do it. He wanted you to feel guilty when he died. He was being manipulative Booth. Up to the minute he died, he wanted to control his game and you were his final game piece. You did nothing wrong."
Her words made sense, but he still felt like he'd done something wrong. One minuted Epps was very much alive and the next minute he wasn't and the difference was Booth's hand. "It's okay, Bones. I get it. Go to sleep . . . thanks for being here. I didn't really want to be alone."
She could only hear sadness in his voice and she knew that she hadn't helped him. I need to find a way to help him. He needs help. "You're welcome Booth. If you want to talk then I'm here to listen."
"Thank you." Booth knew he wasn't going to get much sleep, but he needed to make sure that Brennan did. She was tired and having to deal with his mood wasn't going to help her get any. "I'm fine Bones. I really am. You helped me and I appreciate it. I really do."
Worried about his state of mind, Brennan snuggled against her boyfriend and placed her arm across his chest. "You aren't alone Booth. I love you."
"I love you too." Booth placed his arm around her and tried to relax. The image of Epps falling to his death running over and over in his mind. Did I drop him or did he fall?
ooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Let me know what you think of my story. Thank you.
