Blood thundered in his ears, his heart raced with the thunder of footsteps. Everything was so loud, so chaotic. Agents had poured into the wall. Getting Christine was top priority, and this would most likely become a hostage situation if they didn't get things calmed down soon. Booth's chest tightened at the thought of his daughter with a gun to her temple. Despite the fact that it would give him permission to shoot down the bastards that took Christine and Michael, he would rather that it didn't happen. No matter how much he wanted to kill them, he just wanted his daughter back in his arms.
As Booth turned down another hallway, several agents backed up the area, their guns drawn. Booth heard someone give a warning, a 'let go of the girl.' His heart sank. Booth pushed past several agents, his eyes locking onto Christine's as he neared the front. One arm hung limply to her side, twisted at an odd angle, while the other gripped at the arm around her throat, trying to pull away from her captor.
'Rodney' Booth mentally spat.
"Da-" the barrel pushed further into her temple at the sound of her voice.
"Put the gun down, Rodney." Booth managed in a strangled tone.
He shook his head violently, "Not until I get the money."
Booth glanced between Christine and Rodney, gauging the shot "You know that's not how it's gonna go down."
"Give me the money, or I swear to God I'll shoot," Christine gave a quiet whimper at the idea.
"If you shoot my kid, then I have no reason not to kill you. Now put the gun down, and let her go before I take you down." Booth countered, his gun trained on Rodney.
There was a long pause, and his grip on the gun seemed to falter before it tightened once again, "Give me the money, Agent Booth."
Christine stared at her father, cuts and bruises masked her face, making her almost unrecognizable. But it was in fact his daughter, with a broken arm, soiled clothing... damaged. Booth felt his blood boil at the scene. She should be safe at home, not barely standing with a gun to her head. Booth planted his feet on the floor, he was not letting this man take his daughter from him. His Christine, his baby girl.
"One last chance, Rodney. Now put the gun down, and let the girl go." He ground out, his voice deadly, venomous.
Rodney's eyes flickered between Booth and the several other agents blocking his exit. Defeat filled his eyes as placed the gun at his feet and let go of Christine. Rodney raised his hands above his head as agents rushed towards him, taking his weapon, and placing him under arrest.
Booth hurried to Christine as she braced herself against the wall with the help of a few other agents. Her eyes were bloodshot and red, her light skin a dark blue and purple.
Christine gave a half choked sob and fell into her father's arms. Booth embraced her tightly as she swung her good arm around his shoulder. He buried his head into her hair despite it being mud caked and matted. She was crying, trying to speak but was unable to utter a complete sentence, let alone words. Booth pulled her away at arms length and drank her in.
She gave him a half smile, one that Brennan had said looked so much like his own, "C-can you get me out of here? Please?" Christine glanced towards Rodney and gave a small shudder before adding, "There was a- uh..." she cleared her throat hoarsely, "Second man..."
Booth glanced at the agents around him before back at his daughter, "We'll get him, he couldn't have gone far."
With every second that had ticked by, Brennan became even more wound up than before. Her heart pounded in her chest, as she debated whether or not to go down into the hidden passage herself. Brennan was still considering the thought when they appeared. Booth was carrying Christine up the stairs, one arm slung around his neck while the other rested on her stomach, twisted unnaturally.
She instantly connected the dots. Broken arm. Brennan rushed to his and Christine's side, gingerly picking up her arm to examine the damages. Christine gave a pained groan from the contact.
The second group of agents held Rodney, his hands placed behind his back as they filed him outside and into an SUV. Brennan stepped in front of the group, forcing them to stop the process and watch curiously. She pulled her hand back and brought it forward with as much force as she could muster, giving him a red and stinging mark on his cheek. Rodney's head was jerked to the side from the rough contact, and only stared back when he straitened himself. Brennan wanted to go for more, she could have, and part of her felt like she should have. But she didn't.
"Glad that someone was able to hit him." Booth remarked from behind, his eyes digging into the back of Rodney's skull.
Michael spoke up, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders as he stood closely to Booth and Christine, "When I got out of there..." He paused, looking down at his childhood friend, "I managed to uh... kick him where it counts."
Hodgins beamed at his son, giving him a side hug, "That's my boy."
Angela rolled her eyes, planting a kiss on Michael's cheek for the umpteenth time. Michael ignored the interaction, watching Christine steadily, almost as if he took his eyes off of her, she would be back down in the hole with their captors. Booth muttered something to Christine, bringing her towards several medical attendants followed closely by Brennan.
Brennan watched them with a critical eye as they set Christine's arm before wrapping it in gauze and placing it in a sling. Very primitive, she noted, but it will do. She watched as they went through the motions, asking questions, seeing for signs of a concussion, which had been present in Micheal's case. The list went on, leaving them at the scene for another several minutes.
Booth spoke with a group of agents, informing them of the accomplice that hadn't made an appearance. Christine was able to give them a few ideas on what he could look like, and notified them that the second man had osteoporosis. Angela offered to draw up what he could look like with the children's help, but both explained that they had never seen their kidnappers faces.
Once Christine's medical evaluation was completed, nothing all too serious, several of the medical staff advised Brennan and Booth to take Michael and Christine to a hospital to check for all possibilities. This led to a scolded by Brennan, accusing them of her knowledge compared to their own. To everyone's surprise, the medical staff backed down, understanding that the ordeal had caused a great amount of stress on everyone, which would explain Dr. Brennan's rude outburst.
The ride back to the Hoover was long and bumpy, an uncomfortable ride for Christine, as her arm would bounce around with each and every crack and dip in the road. She leaned into her seat and turned to look at Michael. He hadn't said a word to her since they left the lake. In fact, no one in the car was talking. She felt her stomach lurch at another dip before giving a low growl. Christine's cheeks flushed. Michael's stomach followed her own, gurgling in protest at the lack of food.
Christine cleared her throat, "Hey... can we... uh- stop at the nearest burger place? I haven't eaten since lunch yesterday..."
Booth glanced in the rear-view-mirror, "Is anyone even open? It's five in the morning-"
"McDonald's..." Michael offered, squinting out the window, "W-Where are we again? I can't really see anything... It's all just a bunch of blobs."
Angela turned around, handing her son a pair of cracked glasses, "We found these behind the house in the forest."
He took them gratefully, "Yeah, sorry."
She rubbed his cheek with her thumb, "Don't be sorry."
Michael gave her a sheepish grin before looking out the window and continuing, "Ah yeah. McDonald's only a few blocks away, Mr. B."
Christine watched her dad give a slight nod of his head with the smallest of smiles.
Sweets folded his hands in front of him methodically, eying Rodney who sat across the table, "So..."
"I'm not saying anything," Rodney spat shortly, his eyes narrowing at the shrink.
Sweets raised his eyebrows, "You don't have to. We already know that you're one of the kidnappers, and you were caught holding a gun to an agent's child. The least you can do is tell us who your accomplice is. Or maybe even shine some light as to why you would kidnap an FBI agent's daughter and two forensic scientist's son? If you cooperate, you may see some leniency- "
He shook his head, "Even if I do, my cooperation would be over looked. I'm just as screwed either way."
His fingernails dug into the palms of his hands, biting into the skin painfully. But Booth didn't care, it was taking everything he had not to go marching into that room and beating that man senseless. All he could do was sit and listen. If he wanted to find the other man that harmed Christine and Michael he would have to keep a fair distance away from Rodney. The last thing he wanted was desk duty. But it looked like this guy needed a little convincing.
He contemplated the possibilities, wondering if Sweets would immediately throw him out of the interrogation room or not. Booth decided to go for it, no point in standing around doing nothing while their second kidnapper was loose in DC. In a few seconds, he had switched rooms, and Sweets sat unmoving at the table. He had probably figured this would happen, but made no protest of his being there.
Rodney squirmed under Booth's unwavering stare.
Booth sat down in the chair next to Sweets, he would play nice, and if Rodney didn't say anything then either, then he would get rough, "Who's your accomplice?"
Rodney gave him a calculated smile, "You think that will convince me?"
Sweets gave a long and drawn out sigh, glancing between Booth and their criminal. They would be there a while.
A tentative knock sounded at the door. Christine called out, letting the person know that they could come inside. Brennan and Angela had taken both Christine and Michael to the hospital, not bothering with them getting cleaned up before doing so.
With Brennan being a published author, them not having an appointment didn't seem to matter all that much. Christine still had no idea how that worked, and had reassured her mother and father that she was fine, but convincing them of that was impossible.
Michael cracked the door open, biting his lip as he did so. She motioned for him to come in with a reassuring smile. He stepped inside, a wave of relief washing over his features at her friendliness. Christine scooted over on the medical table, making room for him to join her. He couldn't help but glance down at her arm, still wrapped in gauze and in sling from earlier. Michael glanced around, noting the absence of her mother.
"Where's your mom?" He asked curiously, his eyes now roaming the room.
Several posters about young people's health lined the wall along with pamphlets on several chronic illnesses. The back of the door had a poster of a tooth talking about going to the dentist, which confused both of them greatly. Usually hospitals talked about your health in a... non orthodontial way. Michael raised his eyebrow at the cheerful tooth before looking towards Christine once again.
Christine shook her head with a roll of her eyes, "She's in the waiting room. She had been criticizing the doctor when he walked in, and asked him if he really had gone to school for his degree. Then he asked her if she was a doctor... I'm not sure he really realized who she was..."
Michael gave a nervous laugh, "Yeah, my mom is probably sitting out with her. I wanted to come in here before we went back to the Jeffersonian." He glanced up at Christine, biting his chapped lip for the second time.
"What's wrong?" She asked suddenly.
He placed his hands in his lap with great care, "I'm sorry I left you back there."
Christine shook her head, "You had to. We both know that if you didn't we'd bo-"
"No! I feel really bad. Don't tell me it was logical, or what saved us." He cut her off sharply, pausing to see if she would protest. She gave none and so he continued in a calmer manner, "I was terrified, ya know? I thought I was gonna die in there. I just feel like if I thought the plan through, we could've both gotten out of there together and you wouldn't have that." Michael nodded towards her broken arm.
"What... this?" She moved her arm slightly, "He broke that before you escaped. This isn't your fault... Staccato." She teased lightly, giving his ribs a nudge, hoping to lighten the heavy mood that had settled over them.
The corners of his mouth twitched up, "Stapes." He countered.
Christine smirked at her nickname. His previous worries seemed to have been pushed aside for the moment. They sat in comfortable silence until the doctor entered the room, describing what was needed to be done and what prescriptions he would like for her to pick up.
Doctor Albert seemed confident now that her mother was out of the room. He addressed the two with an authoritative tone now that his ego was no longer at risk, figuring that Christine and Michael had the intelligence of any normal sixteen and seventeen year old in the world. They eyed him with humor, keeping their comments to themselves as he drawled on and on, now far into a lecture about bone marrow. Christine was only half listening and raised her eyebrows in question when she heard her name.
"The color?"
She stared blankly at Dr. Albert, "The what?"
"Of the cast," Michael muttered helpfully.
After much heated debate, the color was chosen and the two left the room in only a short matter of time. Christine met with her mother in the other room, receiving another tight hug, before they left for the Jeffersonian. All Christine wanted to do was shower and get some rest. But, of course, since their second kidnapper was on the loose, everyone had agreed the children were to go there.
The only bright side to this? There were guards everywhere, and they would be safe.