Author's Note: I did my best to keep our beloved Brennan in character this chapter, but I also took a few liberties. I would imagine that anyone put into the situation she is in now would act a little unlike themselves in the face of extreme fear. Of course, I'm also a stickler for staying true to the characters, so I tried not to make it wholly unbelievable. Either way, let me know what you think.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Well, Earl is mine, but I am in no way bragging about that.

Spoilers: None


Brennan was not afraid of being alone. In fact, she had spent a great deal of her life alone and had come to welcome the peace that came with it. In this situation, she was especially glad to be by herself. Being alone gave her the time and the quiet to focus more fully on her current state of affairs.

Her assailant did not appear to be in the room with her. There was no sound save for the slight movement of air around what she assumed was a fan. From what she could see (which was very little), it seemed that she was in an industrial environment of some kind. Unable to turn her head and peruse the room, all she could go off of was what she thought looked like a metal ventilation shaft running the length of ceiling she could see above her. Again she tried to move her extremities, and again nothing happened. Whatever sedative her captor had given her was working.

She tried to focus on her memories of what happened and how she had gotten here, but was rewarded with nothing but a blank. There was no residual pain in her head from any type of blunt force trauma, so she could only assume that memory loss was a side effect of whatever drug she had been given.

Memory loss was something Brennan had never admitted to fearing, but she feared it all the same. There was so much in her life that was a blank, so many memories that she should have had but didn't. Losing what memories she did have was almost paralyzing in it's fear. Fear, Brennan had learned, was the ultimate destroyer. She had enough obstacles before her, she didn't need her own emotions complicating things. Slowly, calmly, she took a deep breath and counted to ten. When she reached ten she exhaled and focused on the first thing that came to mind.

Booth. They had been sitting in the diner sharing a plate of fries, talking about pretty much anything that didn't pertain to the case. She had been trying to keep his mind off the case, knowing how hard it must have hit him. After all, their victim had been a six year old boy, not far from Parker's age. Brennan could remember marveling at herself, at the subtle ways she had changed in the four years she'd known her partner. Before Booth, she had never known that some people would actually be upset by her science and distance. She explained things exactly as they were, no sugar coating. These days, however, she discovered that she was learning to phrase things a little more carefully, trying to make certain things sound less upsetting. How strange.

Footsteps interrupted her reverie. Her mind caught the sound and held onto it, trying to glean whatever information she could. Her captor was possibly a middle aged man, if his uneven gate was anything to go by. He distributed more weight to his left foot, indicating a possible injury to his right leg or foot. She couldn't be certain of course, and even now she refused to jump to conclusions. Either way, whether it was truth or conclusion, the knowledge didn't really help her.

"Still awake, I see," That dark voice greeted, "I couldn't really be sure, you've been so quiet."

Brennan said nothing. There were some things she could still control, and she would be damned if she gave this man the benefit of hearing her scream.

"Do you have a name?" She asked instead

"Used to," He answered nonchalantly

"Well you know my name. What should I call you?" She continued

"Doesn't matter. How about … Earl?"

"Alright, Earl, what is it that you want me to do exactly?"

"Nothing, directly."

The room was silent again, although she could still hear the sounds of Earl shuffling about around her. She focused on her breathing, on keeping it steady and even.

A strange metallic clicking caught her off guard, and she knew that if her body was responding she would have flinched. The noise was loud and unexpected. The clicking stopped and nothing happened for the span of several moments. She felt a sinking fear at being unable to identify what was happening around her and possibly to her. She was trying to control that fear when her senses were overwhelmed with a fiery, tingling sensation. Letting out an audible gasp, Brennan clenched her fist against the sensation and was surprised to find that her body actually reacted this time. Earl must have given her an antidote to the sedative. Experimentally, she flexed first her fingers, and then her toes.

Whatever relief she may have felt at having full control of her body again was short lived, however. Along with the return of her mobility came a great splitting pain in the front of her head. The sedative had obviously masked the pain from any injuries she had sustained thus far.

"Earl, why did you give me back my mobility?" She asked, trying to divert her thoughts from the pain

"There's no reason to keep you sedated," He answered, "You've been bound and secured to the table. You're not going anywhere."

The word table caught her attention. She hadn't yet had time to process her situation, but now that it had been suggested she was certain that she was, indeed, on some kind of table. Also metal, from the feel of it beneath her hands. Although she didn't feel cold, the table beneath her did feel a few degrees cooler than the ambient air. She flexed her wrists and discovered that they were indeed bound, although not by rope or twine.

As a natural reaction, Brennan attempted to lift her head to take a look and nearly jumped when she discovered that she could. Her head was no longer held in place. A small triumph, she knew, and yet one that she welcomed gladly. When she glanced down, she could see that her wrists and ankles were bound to the table by thick straps of metal and burlap. She took a mental note of her condition: clothes dirty and torn in some spots, but she didn't see any bodily damage. The table, now that she could see it, looked like it belonged in a mental institution.

"There's no point in trying to figure out where you are," Earl said condescendingly

"How do you know that's what I was doing?" She challenged, ignoring the sinking feeling in her stomach

"You're a scientist, Dr. Brennan. Of course you're first reaction would be to assess your situation, get any information you can. But I'll save you the trouble. You're on the third floor out of six in a mental hospital on an abandoned naval base. Does that help?"

She refused to let the disappointment surface. She hoped she was able to keep her face impassive; without a sound she lowered her head back to the table. She tried to focus on something other than the information he'd given her, but she couldn't erase the image he'd given her. Naval bases were large, with many different buildings spread out within their fences. Even if she screamed, no one would hear her.

"Tell me something, Doctor," Earl interrupted, "Have you ever studied the ancient Chinese?"

"I don't see how that makes a difference," She said coldly

"Oh, you'll see soon enough. Just answer the question."

"Yes, I have."

The sound of more shuffling, and then she got her first glimpse of her assailant. Earl, apparently excited about her answer, leaned over the edge of the table and put his face just above hers, directly in her line of vision. His countenance caught her off guard. Dark hair peppered with gray, narrow set brown eyes and a small mouth looked down on her. Earl was at least in his forties.

"I am fascinated with the ancient Chinese," He told her, "I've been studying them for years."

"Why are you telling me this?" She demanded

"Just trying to make polite conversation, that's all."

His face disappeared from her view then. Her mind wheeled as she tried to make the pieces fit, tried to make some sense of what was going on. He had told her directly where she was being held, which must mean that he was certain she couldn't escape. He had asked her about the ancient Chinese, which she was certain had no bearing on her current situation. Was there something she was missing? Booth usually did this part, he was the one that was good at making conclusions where there didn't seem to be any.

"Earl," She said suddenly, a thought occurring to her then, "You said that I was here because of Booth?"

"Correct, Doctor."

"How would he have any way of knowing that you're the one who took me?"

"I find it interesting how quickly you assume that he will come for you at all. Regardless, if that's you're way of asking me if I asked for a reward in exchange for your life, the answer is no."

"That doesn't make sense," She told him sharply, "Statistics show …"

"Statistics are wrong, Doc. I don't want anything in exchange for your life. This has nothing to do with money."

"Then what does it have to do with? I'm worth a lot of money you know."

The last sentence slipped unheeded from her mouth. She didn't know why, but it unnerved her to know that he didn't send a ransom note for her. Anthropologically speaking, the people with more money and stature in a society were often the ones taken first because they had the most to give in exchange for their lives. If this man had no intention of asking for money, then what could he possibly want?

"Money means nothing to me. I have a hunch that you're life means more to your partner than you know; in fact, I'm banking on it. You see, years ago Seeley Booth was responsible for taking a life even more important to me than my own. Now, I'm going to repay the favor."

Icy, skeletal fingers of fear snaked around her well built wall of self control. This man had no intention of letting her live - he was merely biding his time. Her stomach turned cold as the fear invaded her; she wanted to correct him, to tell him that he was wrong in thinking that her life was the most important one to her partner. Another thought came to her then, an alien thought that made her feel more terrified then she already was.

This man thought Brennan was important to Booth. He was certain that by taking her life, he was crippling her partner. There was a hole in his logic, however, a gross oversight. Somehow, Earl did not know of the existence of Parker. History showed her that a species' young was its most valued possession. Surely if this man had studied any ancient civilization, he would know that as well. Therefore, it did not stand as logical that this man would choose her over Booth's son - unless he was ignorant of Parker's existence.

Temperance Brennan had never wanted children. She was sure that if she had ever brought it up to Sweets, he would prattle off some stupid psychology about the pain of her own childhood. She had never given it any thought; she was happy with her life and her work. Just because she was a woman did not mean that she needed to have children to feel fulfilled. She had never understood the opposing side of that argument. That had started to change the moment she was partnered with Booth. That man loved his little boy so entirely, and he would do anything to keep Parker healthy and happy.

Now, Brennan decided that no matter what happened, this man would remain ignorant of the fact that Booth had a son. She could do nothing more for her partner, could not lend him her expertise on this. No, the only way she could help him now was to make this man believe that she was the most important thing in Seeley Booth's life.

For the very first time in her purely logical life, Temperance was filled with the overpowering need to lie.