Jack Hodgins sat handcuffed to the table in the interrogation room. Rubbing his head with his hand, he wondered how he had gotten into this predicament. How could all of this happen to him? What in the world had he really done?
Looking at himself in the two-way mirror, he could see the blood stains on his shirt. His hands he had already been allowed to wash off, but he hadn't changed his clothes yet. He saw blood on his hair as well, he knew it wasn't his.
The waiting was the hard part, not knowing what was going to happen to him. Would he end up locked away like Zach, or the Gravedigger? How could he have murdered someone?
Agent Booth entered the room. He noticed the distraught look on Hodgins face.
"Booth!" Hodgins exclaimed, watching his friend sit opposite him at the table.
"Hodgins, you need to tell me everything." Booth shifted himself forward in the seat, "start from the beginning and tell me slowly how this happened."
"I killed him!" Hodgins was quite upset with the situation. "I killed him."
"I said, start from the beginning," Booth repeated himself.
Hodgins had returned home after finally finishing a case with the rest of the Smithsonian team. It was a late Sunday afternoon. He was glad to be back in his apartment, not having to worry about work for the moment. After making himself something to eat, he brought it into the living room with him. Sitting back on the couch, he rested his feet on the coffee table.
The commotion in the hallway caught his attention. Hodgins placed his food in the coffee table and made his way to the door. Once he opened the door, he found the source of the noise. It was a new neighbor moving in.
He watched as a mattress tried to make its way up the staircase. He could tell there was one lone soul bringing it up the stairs.
"Need any help?" he asked.
"That would be great!" exclaimed a female voice from the other side of the mattress. "Thanks!"
Together they brought the mattress into the apartment next to his, taking it into the only bedroom. The mattress joined a small dresser and lamp already in the room.
"Moving in, huh?" he asked her. He guessed she was in her mid-twenties.
"Yeah, thanks for the help. I kept getting the stupid thing stuck on the stairs," she paused, "I'm Natalie."
"Jack," he could tell she didn't have much to move in, "do you want some help?"
"Oh, no that's ok, thanks," Natalie told him. "I only have a few boxes left. I can handle it." She headed back down the stairs, aware of him following her.
"Don't you have anyone helping you?" he asked, once they reached her car in front of their building.
"No," she pulled out a box from the backseat of the car. "Thanks for your help Jack, you really don't have to."
"It's no problem," Hodgins pulled a box out from the other side and they carried them back up to her apartment. "So, where'd you move from?" he asked placing the box on the floor.
As they headed back down for the last load, she told him how she had moved from Illinois. She "needed a fresh start" in her life. Hodgins spent just over an hour helping Natalie unpack some of her boxes as they got aquatinted.
"Thanks again for your help. Listen, to repay you, can I make you dinner tomorrow night? I'd like to get some groceries first," she said, smiling at the empty cabinets.
"It's not necessary," Hodgins was glad to help. He may have been glad to be home earlier, but it was always felt good to help someone out.
"I insist. Say seven o'clock ok?"
"Sure. That sounds good." Hodgins returned to his apartment, thinking about the day's events.
Booth felt agitated. He was unsure what last Sunday had to do with the murder. He shifted again in the seat.
"What does this have to do with today?" he asked Hodgins.
"I'm trying to tell you. You said to start at the beginning. This is where it all began!" Hodgins yelled as he hit the table with his hands.
"Ok, ok," Booth paused, "keep going."
Taking a deep breath, Hodgins tried to calm himself. He pulled at his memories from the week. The work week had been simple, only dealing with museum issues. They currently were not on any investigations, so he had an easier week at work.
"So, we had dinner the next night. Natalie burned the garlic bread, but it was still good. She's really nice. Moved all the way from Illinois, did I tell you that?" Without expecting an answer he continued. "She said she needed a change in her life. I saw her a few times during the week, mostly just passing in the hall. She did borrow my hammer on Tuesday night though; guess she wanted to put up some decorations in the place.
"She brought it back over this morning. She seemed fine. Nothing was different." Rubbing his hands on his head he looked at the table, he was full of disbelief. "I can't believe I killed him."
"What happened today?" Booth questioned.
Hodgins continued his story.
Cam had sent everyone home early that day. Knowing that they put in long hours when they are on a case, she wanted them to have some time away from work. She was sure they would be putting in late hours again soon.
Returning to his apartment midday was a relief. Hodgins needed to catch up on some laundry. The last several weeks had been busy at work and he was too tired most times to care for his laundry, let alone the apartment. He chose to take this time to catch up on a few things at home.
He found himself in the basement of the building most of the afternoon, working on his laundry. He hadn't realized how much he really had to do. Bringing another load up, he could hear yelling in Natalie's apartment. He chose not to listen in to the conversation, but to return inside.
While he hung his shirts on hangers he could hear the noise next door getting louder. Trying to ignore it, he turned the volume on his iPod higher. The bass of this music helped drown out the noises.
Hodgins found himself in the kitchen making a sandwich for dinner as he saw the picture on the wall shake. Choosing to turn his music down, he could now here that the noise from the apartment next door had gotten quieter, much too quiet.
Listening intently, he could hear a male voice talking sternly. He was unable to make out what he was saying. He could tell that the man was very angry. There was thud on the wall again, shaking the picture enough for it to become tilted slightly. He couldn't stand by without making sure that his new neighbor was alright.
As he entered the hallway, he could hear the man clearly now.
"I told you I would find you!" he spoke calmly now.
Hodgins could not hear anything from Natalie. He knocked on the door loudly, making sure he was heard. Waiting for a response, he shifted his weight. He knocked again.
"Natalie?" he called out. There was still no response from behind the apartment door. Knowing that she was not alone, he figured the man must be stopping her from responding. Quickly, he returned inside his apartment. Picking up the phone and dialing 911, he waited for an answer.
"911 what is your emergency?" said a voice on the other side of the phone.
He quickly explained his concern for his neighbor, gave the address and apartment number. As he hung up, he tossed the phone on the couch and returned to the hallway once again.
This time he banged on the door with his fist.
"Natalie! Answer the door!" There was still no response to his yelling.
Testing the knob, it was locked. He could hear someone whispering inside the apartment. Taking quick action, with all his strength, he shoved his shoulder into the door. It budged slightly. Taking a deep breath, he threw all his weight into the next thrust against the locked door.
As the door swung open, he almost lost his footing. Entering the apartment, he saw a flash of light reflect from the knife being held up to his new neighbor's neck. Her back against the wall, the dirty left hand of the man was held against her throat. He held the knife with his right hand, pointing at the juncture of her neck and shoulder.
"I'll make her bleed if you don't leave!" his raspy voice said.
Hodgins could see the terror in Natalie's eyes. She had her hands on the man's left arm, to help her balance slightly better. Her clothing had been torn with several patches of blood stains on them.
Hodgins became enraged as he realized what he had allowed to happen. He thought he should have stopped this earlier, when he heard the first yell.
Feeling the adrenaline building in his system, he couldn't allow this man to hurt her anymore. Slowly, he walked toward the kitchen wall where they stood.
"Natalie, you ok?" he asked, looking directly at her eyes. He saw the knife press on her skin firmly. This man meant what he said. Hodgins tried to figure a way out of this quickly.
With each step he took, he could see the man better. He stood off balance slightly, with a smell of beer and cigarette surrounding him. The dark hair was tussled with dirt. He turned to look at Hodgins with the next step he took.
"You want her to bleed, that's fine with me. She deserves it." Without a moment's notice, the man pulled the knife across the side of her neck.
The scream from Natalie was unlike anything Hodgins had ever heard. It was full of terror and pain. She stood staring at him for a moment. He was in disbelief that the man had done this to her. Letting her fall to the floor, the man turned to face Hodgins.
"You want it now?" he teased.
Hodgins couldn't take his eyes off Natalie. She lay on the floor, hand trying to cover the open wound on her neck. She tried to stay calm and not panic.
The man took several quick steps toward Hodgins. Before he knew what was happening, he was defending himself. The man struck out the knife at him, missing him slightly. As he stumbled toward Hodgins again, he lost his balance. Reacting quickly, Hodgins grabbed the hand with the knife and wouldn't let go.
The two struggled briefly; bumping into a kitchen chair the man loosened his grip on the knife. It almost fell out of his hand, but he tightened his grip when he realized it had shifted. Raising his hand to strike Hodgins, he lunged toward him once again. Hodgins jumped back quickly, then grabbing his hand pushed at the man.
The look on his face would forever be burned in his memory. The shock and pain was evident. He looked down at the man's torso. The knife penetrated through his shirt and into the middle of his stomach. Blood rushed from the man as he fell to his knees.
Hodgins felt frozen in time. He watched this man slowly fall to the floor with a pool of blood developing next to him. Slowly looking at his hands, he realized he was covered in this man's blood.
He could hear sirens from outside. The stomping of feet rang through the stairwell. He turned to look at Natalie, who lay on the floor in a pool of her blood. Was she alive? He was unaware of her condition. He took a step toward her but froze when he heard the voice.
"Police, don't move!" demanded the officer.
"It was self defense," Booth sat relieved.
"Natalie? Do you know how she is? Is she ok?" he asked feeling a wave of panic overtake him. Hodgins realized that he had been removed from the apartment before the paramedics arrived.
"She was in surgery when I came in. Sit tight, I'll find out how she's doing." Booth stood to leave the room as Angela entered. He could see she was quite upset.
"Jack, what happened?" she walked close to him, slightly brushing her sleeve on his arm. Staring deep into his eyes, she could see he was just as upset about the happenings of the day.
"It was self defense," Booth stated to her. "I'll be back in a few minutes."
As Angela moved closer to Hodgins, she placed her hands on his shoulders. He could see the concern in her face.
"Hey baby," she said softly kissing his forehead. "It's gonna be okay."
"I'm sorry," he whispered to her.
She hugged him ever so gently, allowing him to feel her love for him.
After a few moments Booth burst back into the room. He found Angela to be sitting across from Hodgins.
"She's out of surgery, they both are." Booth was glad to be able to give Hodgins good news. "You didn't kill anyone. Your neighbor, Natalie, she'll have a long recovery, but it looks good."
Hodgins felt the release of tension and fear leave his body with a deep sigh. He sat looking at Angela who smiled sweetly back at him. Everything would okay now.