Chapter Three: Promises

Patrick Jane will tell you, he's not a psychic. Instead he has honed his skills in recognizing the signs people display. Body language, facial expressions, their syntax, the tone of their voice are all dead give-a-ways, and so is their choice of dress, the colors they choose and even the way they smell. If you arrange these signs thoughtfully and carefully, they form a picture or a story, and a story was materializing as he observed the New York City Homicide Detective, the FBI Agent from Washington, DC. and the unusual team of three from Boston.

When Booth told the others about the text message from Brennan's phone, it gave the rescue effort the boost they needed and the workers picked up the pace with renewed urgency and purpose. Both Booth and Beckett were energized, and out of their optimism grew a newly formed sense of solidarity and trust. Jane knew they had let their defenses down when he overheard them talking.

"I sent a text, to let them know we're here." Booth swiped his fingers through his hair. "You know, we've worked together for over five years." He explained, a lost look about him. "It took us a while to find our rhythm, we approach most things from opposite ends of the field, but we always end up in the same place. Bones and I, we're not alike, but then we are." He searched her face, wanting her to understand. "How long have you worked with Castle?"

Beckett's hard exterior softened. "Two years. At first he was annoying and aggravating, I thought he was self absorbed and an opportunist, but truthfully he's been a huge help in closing cases. Castle's not a cop and he's offered up something that's really different. He's smart, funny, generous and loves his daughter and mother. The novels he written don't begin to tell you what he's really made of. He's a good man." She gave up a little smile, thinking about him. "Can I ask you a personal question?"

He answered it before she asked it. "No, we aren't together, I mean, we aren't involved in that way. The truth is, we're everything to each other, just not that."

"I think I know what you're talking about." There was empathy in her voice. "If you're honest, it means you care more than you think you should, but not enough to jeopardize the relationship. Have you told her how you feel?"

"I don't have to, she knows, and one of these days we'll stop acting like it doesn't exist. I guess it's enough, knowing we can count on each other." He saw the look in her face. "What about you?"

"I get what you're saying, and I think he feels the same way, but he's never actually said it... God, I just hope I get the chance to…." She stopped, the lump in her throat silenced her.

Booth felt her despair. "Listen Beckett, you… me… we don't want to walk away from this without saying we did everything we could to bring them back… and we will bring them back."

She swallowed hard and looked him straight in the eye. "You're right, and when they are back, I'm not going to forget we had this conversation."

"I don't think I could forget, even if I tried."

Denial conjures up all kinds of feelings that are hard to pin down. Jane knew that Detective Beckett and Agent Booth might be used to living with jealous pangs or longing looks, but neither would be able to live with the grief that comes from regret. It's not enough to think others may know how you feel, because it's your declaration of feelings that makes it real.

Beckett held her arms close around her, her dark hair and eyes, the almost exotic looks she was blessed with had somehow gone pale. She asked the right questions, paid attention to detail and was professional in manner, but whether it was fatigue or fear, she looked like a piece of twine pulled so tight it would break at any time. Jane saw himself when he looked at her, he couldn't have known about her mother's unsolved murder, but he knew she lived with more than her fair share of unresolved emotions and confusion. She had feelings for her partner, they weren't clear, not even to her, but he knew they existed. He dismissed these thoughts, they made him think of Lisbon and he didn't want to go there.

He watched Booth pace the floor, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand and constantly checking his phone with the other, looking, hoping and waiting for another message. His five o'clock shadow, the dark circles under his eyes and his disheveled clothing reflected his fear and anxiety. Jane was moved when he saw him close his eyes and pray, he knew it was an intensely personal and meaningful gesture and he knew the FBI Agent was in love with his partner.

He looked at Lisbon and wondered if she had been upset when he had been abducted and if she would ever care enough to say a prayer for him. She had become a central person in his life, someone who provided stability and purpose. He had rejected certain feelings he had for her, not the ones that had to do with respect and admiration, but the ones that made him ache for the loss of affection and intimacy in his life. These emotions were still too painful to be dealt with, they affected his judgment and blurred his obsession with finding the serial killer who had murdered his wife and daughter, but after seeing and feeling what Beckett and Booth were going through, he found he was at odds with himself.

He lost his train of thought when Rigsby, Van Pelt and Cho walked in. Rigsby looked around at the tired workers before spotting Lisbon. "Hey Boss, you and Jane need to go back to the hotel, get some rest." The three of them had returned after they had agreed to take shifts and he hovered over her.

Lisbon nodded wearily. "You're right, but call me if anything happens, we're all invested in this now. You see those two? She's NYPD and he's FBI, their partners are the ones buried under there. They won't leave, and watch what you say, she especially might shoot you."

"That woman," she pointed toward Olivia "She's FBI from Boston and that man over there working with the blueprints is her partner. They know something about that cylinder. Keep your ears open."

"Okay Boss." Rigsby answered.

She looked over at Jane "You coming? I can ask the hotel if you can sleep on their couch in the lobby." She tried to sound funny, but was too weary to laugh.

Jane smirked at her and brushed the dust off of his pants, it created a little cloud around him. "I'll catch up with you in a bit, go… get some sleep."

She looked at him suspiciously and knew something was up. "Keep an eye on him." She muttered to Cho.

"You know I will." Cho's stoney expression never changed.

Lisbon gathered up her jacket and said her good byes. She looked wistfully at Patrick Jane, she knew it shouldn't matter, but she wished he were coming with her. The last 24 hours had been a fireworks display of emotions and it was at times like this that she didn't want to be alone. Her family was her CBI team, and Jane's addition to it was more than another professional relationship. She couldn't tell you when it happened, but he had become more than a consultant with extraordinary insights, he had become someone she had grown to care for. She sighed to herself as she walked away, and forced herself to think about a hot shower and comfortable bed.

Jane purposely avoided being alone with her, it was much easier to deny his feelings, then confront them. Instead, he allowed himself to be distracted by the chemistry between Van Pelt and Rigsby. Their working relationship made it difficult for them to be together, but their feelings for each other did not, and he thought they were brave, genuine and perfectly matched to each other.

"Look at them Wayne, they're both so sad, it's heartbreaking." Van Pelt murmured, nodding her head toward Booth and Beckett, she was compassionate to a fault. "What if their partners don't come out of this alive?"

"Grace, we have to hope for the best." He stood with his back toward the others and discretely took her hand in his rubbing the back of it with his thumb. The angelic look on her face was filled with love, and he not so discretely leaned toward her and whispered something in her ear.

Jane had become accustomed to catching the two CBI Agents in an intimate moment or two, and normally he could ignore their small displays of affection, but it seemed all eyes were on them, including Booth and Beckett's. His curiosity was peaked, when he saw Cho and his unreadable expression, walk towards the Detective and Agent. Jane stepped closer, interested in what the expert interrogator was up to.

Cho's unaffected manner was to the point, he didn't bother with introductions and launched into what was on his mind. "See them? They work together, in the office and out in the field. In the beginning they tried to hide their feelings for each other but instead of pretending they didn't care, they decided to be honest about it." He looked at Booth first, then at Beckett. "You might think that's wrong, but believe me, the lie was worse." He stared at them for a moment before turning to an eavesdropping Jane. "Wouldn't you agree?" An awkward silence followed Cho's reality check, but it was suddenly interrupted by the excited sounds of the rescue workers.

One of the missing had been found! A medical team was being lowered down along with a one man rescue basket. Everyone watched with trepidation as the victim was uncovered and extracted from under a pile of debris and dirt. One of the workers gave a thumbs up, the victim was alive and the din of relieved and excited voices filled the area. They watched as the medics gave him a cursory exam, before stabilizing his neck and strapping him to a board and lifting him into the basket. He was pulled out of the enormous pit and carried toward an aid car where another set of medical personnel continued to work on him.

Beckett's elation at knowing someone was rescued alive was shattered when she realized it wasn't Castle. She walked away, isolating herself from the others. Booth started to follow, but hung back, deciding to give her some space. Instead he talked to Rigsby and Van Pelt, while purposely ignoring Cho.

From the background, Jane watched the rescue effort, and in his range of vision, Agent Broyles appeared. The man exuded an aura of authority and intimidation, he seemed genuinely concerned for the missing people but it didn't take a person with heightened observational skills to know his team were here because of the mysterious cylinder. Broyles may have been in charge, but he intuitively knew Olivia Dunham and Peter Bishop were the ones to go to for answers.

He watched as Olivia silently communicated with her partner. She was all about purpose and truth, and even looked the part with her blonde hair, fair complexion and honest eyes. As forthcoming as Olivia appeared, Peter Bishop was full of secrets. He was tall, boyishly handsome, and uncomfortable and out of place. Each of them was an enigma, a combination of integrity and a relentless drive, but underneath it, he sensed they were wounded. She was as protective of him as he was of her, and the feelings they had for each other were deep.

When Olivia caught him scrutinizing them, Jane felt as though the woman was in his head, and this was different and unsettling. He picked up his coat and quietly walked out, the hum of the exhausted rescue workers and airport personnel surrounded him, but he could only think about the missing authors and the people who cared about them. As he shuffled through the crowd, something compelled him to look up. He saw the edge of a bald head, the face that belonged to it looked at him curiously, before disappearing behind the crowd.

"Rick?" Brennan whispered, her voice was raspy from the dust and dirt. Her lips and mouth were parched and dry as she tried to swallow.

"Phone…" Castle's voice was small, unlike his usual hearty tone. " I sent a text, let them know, we're alive." His voice was barely audible.

Brennan felt relief when she heard his voice and realized he was still near by.

The phone chimed, jarring them.

"I remember talking to Kate... She said she was coming..." He gasped out a chuckle. "She's probably pissed off at me."

"…hardly your fault."

"I know that…" Castle grunted as he freed his hand, still clutching Brennan's phone. With his fingers wrapped around it, he felt for the indentation and when he pressed it, a small glimmer of light illuminated his face. He turned his head and closed his eyes as his pupils dilated.

The small amount of light was enough to let them know how fortunate and how dire their circumstances were. The metal beam that had Castle pinned down had shifted, and debris covered him, but it had kept his head and upper body from being crushed. Brennan still lay in between pieces of the ceiling and wall and it had kept her from being smothered, but the complete absence of light, the thick air, and the large amounts of dirt on top of them, told them, they were buried alive.

Castle held the phone up to his face. The message from Booth was simple, "we're here and we'll get you out."

"Temperance, they're here."

"Booth will find us." Brennan murmured.

"You have a lot of faith."

"He uses his heart."

"Your partner?" Castle whispered."

"Rick, I never told him."

"He's going to find us, and you can tell him, that you love him. Temperance… promise?"

"I promise."

"Me too."

The light from the cell phone went off as it fell out of Castle's grasp and into the dirt. Brennan reached out into the dark, groping until she found his hand. She curled her fingers around his, and felt him do the same, it was enough to remind them they weren't alone and had promises to keep.