A/N: Thank you once again for the reviews. I recieved a review from someone named Jane who requested Chapter 5 as a Birthday wish. Well, here it is Jane! Chapter 5! Wishes really do come true! Get ready for a thrill and a little bit of fluff :P Read, enjoy and review :) xoxo P.S. Don't hate me for any spelling or grammatical errors! I am very sleepy and have quickly proof read this chapter so if there are any mistakes please forgive me!
"What else did you see Christine?"
"Nothing, I didn't see anything. I just heard someone behind me."
"Is it possible that it was just leaves rustling in the wind and you mistakenly thought someone was following you?"
"No! They messaged me. How did they get my number? They knew I was alone. How did they know that if they weren't following me? If they couldn't see me?"
Agent Lundy looked from Christine to her Father who was positioned in the chair right next to her and then to her mother who sat on her other side.
"I think the real question is what were you doing alone?" Her father was infuriated and she supposed he had every right to be.
"Dad, I'm sorry. I thought I would be alright if I just went to the library for a couple of hours to do some research. I wasn't even thinking."
"Well you need to think Christine! There's a killer out there who knows who you are and apparently where you are and is trying to get to you."
"Booth." interjected her mother who placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Christine your Father and I are worried. We can't protect you if we don't know where you are or who you're with."
"Listen", Agent Lundy interrupted from across the large oval table in the interview room, "There's nothing more we can do for tonight. The tech guys have looked at your phone but as we thought the messages came from a pre-paid phone and we weren't able to get a trace. The best thing for you to do is to go home and lay low for a few days".
"Thanks Tom". Her father shook Agent Lundy's hand and led Christine and her mother out of the room.
"You're coming home with us Christine." Her father told her matter of factly.
"Dad" –
"Booth", her Mother jumped in. "The killer will be expecting Christine to go home. Won't it be safer if she goes back to Angela's? Plus you and I need to keep working on this case. It won't be truly safe for her until we find the killer." Booth seemed to mull this over for a minute before closing his eyes and letting out and long sigh.
"Fine but I want hourly updates so I know you're safe".
"Ok, I promise." Booth reached for his daughter and enveloped her in another one of his bear hugs.
"I just want you to be safe".
"I know Dad".
"I should get back to the lab but I'll call you later", her Mother kissed her cheek. "Be safe".
"I will Mom".
Just as her mother rounded the corner on her way to the elevator Christine spotted her Uncle Sweets appear reading a mound of notes before he looked up and spotted Christine and Agent Booth.
"Christine, are you ok?" He asked as he too pulled her forward for a somewhat gentler embrace than her father.
"I'm ok Uncle Sweets".
"You got anything?" Her Father addressed the F.B.I's best profiler.
"Well, there's not that much to go on at this point since we've got no suspects. But the killer displays an arrogant attitude which suggests they're covering there tracts well which we already know since they are leaving very little evidence. These were more than just crimes of passion. The killer went to the trouble of following Christine, obtaining a pre-paid phone and leaving messages for us trying to toy with everyone. This was all pre meditated. We have two male victims so far so the killer could be female but there's no solid proof. It would seem, however, that the killer doesn't want to hurt Christine, at least not at this point. They've had several opportunities to do so but instead they've used those opportunities to scare her or let you know that they're in control. This is all a game to them".
"So who should I be looking at Sweets?"
"Definitely someone with a high IQ, someone that attends American University, possibly female. I'd start by interviewing everyone in the Anderson building and go from there. I'll observe and see if I can't help spot someone who might fit the killer's profile."
"Okay, thanks Sweets."
"No problem, and Christine, don't worry we'll catch whoevers doing this".
"I know you will."
"So, how's classes? I here Professor Stark is going to be a guest speaker this semester. We were in the same abnormal psychology class in college."
"I'll be sure to name drop when I see him then." Sweets laughed and stopped as they reached the elevator.
"Well, you know who to call if you ever need any help writing papers or with anything".
"Oh, geez". Her Father looked pained as he held open the elevator door for Christine.
"You mock me Booth but I had you and Brennan figured out the second I met you".
Christine laughed and stepped inside the elevator. Her Uncle Sweets loved to tease her parents and had spent most of the last twenty something years on Booth's back trying to solve any relationship issues they had ever had.
"You should thank him you know", Christine teased her father as the elevator pinged and they made their way to the car park.
"Why's that?" He asked looking amused as he unlocked his car and they both jumped in.
"Because, do you know how much couples counselling costs these days? You and Mom have a free therapist at your disposal all these years. You probably owe him thousands of dollars by now."
Booth laughed and clicked in his seat belt. "You're probably right but Sweets just can't help himself". Booth put the car into gear and exited the car park onto Pennsylvania Avenue Northwest and began their drive to Jack and Angela's house in Dupont Circle.
Doctor Brennan looked at her watch which read almost nine o'clock. She should have been home by now writing the newest chapter of her latest book to keep her occupied or crashed out on the sofa with Booth whilst they both ate Chinese takeout and talked about how nice it was to finally have an empty house whilst both secretly mourning the absence of their daughter, as they probably would for the next four years. Instead she was at the Jeffersonian going over the set of remains with Cam who had just joined her on the brightly lit platform to once again examine the remains.
"There is a perfusion of perimortem bone damage to the arms and the torso on both victims as well as a skull fracture on victim number two Kevin Williamson." Doctor Brennan observed as she bent forward and directed the large magnifying glass to get a better look.
Cam frowned. "Could you direct the magnifying glass over the left costal margin please?" She asked as she reached for her gloves and squinted and what she saw. "Based on staining of surrounding tissue I'd say cause of death was a punctured aorta; he bled out."
"It seems that the compound fracture to the victim two's left seventh rib could be what punctured his aorta. Since most of these fractures seem to have occurred perimortem or post mortem, it most likely occurred when our victim was ran over by the car. Once to kill him and again once he was dead which would explain the breaks to his legs and his scull which seem to have occurred post mortem."
Cam stood upright. "Doctor Hodgins found traces on the victim which, when he ran them through the mass spec, turned out to be chromium."
"Which is an element that most car bumpers are plated with", Brennan concurred.
"Exactly. Doesn't really give us much to go on but we'll keep looking."
"You don't have to stay late Cam. Really, I appreciate it but I can call you if I find anything. Plus, I thought Michelle and Finn were visiting for the weekend."
"They are. They're out to dinner with the kid's and Paul's on a late shift at the hospital so I told them I'd see them a little later. Besides, I want to help. Someone threatens one of us, they threaten all of us. That's the way it is Doctor Brennan".
"Thanks Cam."
"So how is Christine?"
"She's doing ok. She was a little shaken up but Booth has taken her back to Angela's. We thought she'd be safer there than at our house where she might be expected to go."
"Well, I think that's a good idea. Doctor Hodgins and Angela will keep her safe and you know Booth would never let anything happen to Christine."
"I know. I just want to solve this case."
"And we will Doctor Brennan. Let's keep looking."
Christine blinked back tears as her grief washed over her in waves. She was used to hearing about death given both of her parents professions but no matter how many times she saw it or heard about it, nothing could stop her from feeling broken hearted at the moment a person closed their eyes and bid farewell to this life and the ones they loved. She reached for a tissue to dab away the salty liquid that ran down her cheeks. Pippa turned on the lights and then made her way over to the DVD player to eject the disc and replace The Notebook back in its case and slotted it into its rightful place on the mahogany DVD cabinet.
"Sorry Chris. Was that a bad movie choice?"
"Are you kidding? I love that movie Pip."
"Ok, good." Pippa smiled as she joined Christine on the sofa of the family room. "So, how are you feeling?"
"I'm ok Pip."
"Really? When Michael came home and told us what had happened, he said you were pretty freaked out."
"Oh. Well, I'm fine now, I promise." Christine assured her friend.
"I think he likes you." Pippa said with a sly look forming itself on her face and a glint in her eye.
"What?" Christine blushed furiously and almost choked out her words. "Why would you say that Pippa. He does not!"
"I know my brother and I see what I see. He looks at you all the time. It's different than before."
"That's crazy Pip."
"Mom thinks so too."
"What? You mean you have talked about this with your mother?"
"Christine. Don't freak out. So what if Michael likes you." Pippa eyed Christine suspiciously before something seemed to dawn on her. "You don't… like him back do you?"
"Pippa! No. Of course not and can we please stop talking about this?"
"Whatever you say Chris." Pippa teetered off and grabbed her phone to check for messages and Christine breathed a sigh of relief as she reached for the bowl of popcorn. Was her liking for Michael Hodgins that transparent? She told herself it was just Pippa's imagination running wild again.
"Hey, if you and Michael got married, you'd be my sister for real!"
"Pip, I really don't know why you're looking into the field of entomology when you should be considering creative writing. You obviously have an overactive imagination if you think for one second Michael and I could be a couple."
"Don't be ridiculous Christine. So what if you and Michael hate each other. It's how all the great romances begin you know. Just look at Mister Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet…now that was a match made in heaven!" Christine had to laugh at that.
"You are unbelievable Pippa Hodgins", she told her friend and she playfully hit her with the soft cushion that had been sat in her lap. Pippa laughed and then stood.
"It's getting late. I should be getting off the bed before Dad comes in and starts quizzing me about my biology paper again. Are you sure you don't want to crash in my room?"
"Michael insists I stay in his room. He thinks I won't get any sleep if I bunk with you and something tells me he's right."
"Very funny", Pippa said and was about to go one before Michael entered the room and she gave Christine a pointed wink and wished them both goodnights.
"Hi", he said tentatively as he closed the door behind Pippa and moved over to the couch.
"Hi", was all Christine could manage after her conversation with Pippa. Michael sat down at the other end of the sofa after reaching for the remote and switched on the news. Immediately a picture of the grotty dumpster where the first victim on campus was found flashed across the screen and then switched to a pretty red haired news reporter who supposedly had the latest on the campus murders.
"Local Police and now F.B.I investigators say they have yet to uncover any forensic evidence linking anyone to the crime. However, we have been told that both victims were sophomores attending American University, 19 year old Peter Cummings was the first victim to be found by students on campus who found his body a week ago followed by the body of 19 year old Kevin Williamson who was found next to a dumpster outside the Letts Building, where he was house with several other students, three days ago. With no suspects or leads, students and parents alike are starting to ask themselves 'Is this campus a safe place to be with a supposed killer on the loose?' Police patrols of the campus have been initiated and so far no other victims have been discovered."
Michael shut off the television and tossed the remote beside him on the couch before turning to Christine. "You know you're safe here, right? You don't have to worry."
Christine had the distinct feeling he was saying more so to reassure himself rather than her so she smiled and told him what he wanted to hear. "Of course. Its late, I'm going to go to bed. I'll see you in the morning."
Christine quickly showered and then brushed her teeth and applied her moisturiser. She noticed that Michael was right. His bathroom was impeccably clean and she once again thought about what a surprise he had turned out to be. She ran her brush through her hair and then set the alarm that sat on Michael's bedside table. She figured she could afford herself some extra shut eye since she didn't plan on attending her classes tomorrow so she set the alarm for nine am. Agent Lundy had told her to lay low so she had decided to take a couple of days off and instead her professors had agreed to email her some notes under the circumstances. It was half past midnight so she slipped off her night gown under which she wore her satin pink pyjama camisole top and shorts and turned off the small lamp which also sat on the bedside table before burying herself under the thick duvet and bed spread which adorned Michael's bed. She closed her eyes and drifted into a deep sleep.
Christine awoke with a chill and pulled her duvet further up her shoulders only to realise it was the wrong colour. This duvet was cream like the one in her dorm room so she slowly sat up and looked around, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness for a moment. She realised she was in her bed in her dorm room. She could have sworn she had fallen asleep somewhere else, although she couldn't quite remember where. She pivoted to swing her legs out of bed and slowly let her feet touch the cool floor. That was odd; she could have sworn her dorm room floor was carpeted too. This one was hard and cold like stone. She turned once again to realise she was now outside. Her bed and her belongings had disappeared to make way for the Anderson Building that towered in front of her. She was confused and cold. Where was her dressing gown when she needed it? She didn't remember walking outside but here she was staring straight ahead at the main entrance. She thought she heard something but she was disoriented and she couldn't tell where it was coming from. The wind blew and chilled her to the bone and she stood still trying to listen. She thought she heard footsteps behind her. She turned swiftly but no one was there. She heard a rustling off to her right and she turned again but still nothing.
"Christine". She turned again. This time a full three sixty degree turn but she was alone.
"Christine." There it was again, almost a jagged whisper. "Christine".
She concentrated hard and realised the sound was coming from her right. She began walking in the direction of the trees positions at the right side of the building and the voice kept calling.
"Christine."
It was almost a hiss now. She carried on and found herself edging closer and closer to the side of the building. This seemed familiar to her but she couldn't work out why. She stood at the mouth of the narrow alley now and if she squinted she could see the dark grey dumpster piled high with trash bags.
"Christine."
She moved closer, taking small footsteps as she went. She had a chilling feeling that there was something hiding at the other side of the dumpster out of sight that she was supposed to find.
"Christine".
She began to whimper as fear struck her but she carried on inching closer and closer to the dumpster. She stopped as she neared it and closed her eyes trying to gather enough courage to peer around the other side. As she did so, she screamed. At least she thought she had. She knew she was screaming but there was no sound and she began to panic and her tears streamed. The cold and lifeless body of Michael Hodgins lay propped against the side of the dumpster. His usual olive complexion had been replaced by one so pale it looked almost tinged with grey. His once warm hazel eyes were shut and in his blooded hand was a small rumpled note with her name written on it in bold black letters. She bent down to retrieve it and as she did she noticed that most of his body looked crushed as if something heavy had run over him. As she brought the note closer to read it she let out several wails as hot tears splashed the bloodied paper. She turned it over and read the message that had been left for her.
I can get to you anywhere Christine.
"No", she heard herself cry before she heard the voice again, only this time it was no whisper. It was clear and it sounded like Michael.
"Christine".
But that was impossible. His limp body lay before her and his lips were not moving.
"Christine".
She continued to cry. "Michael, I'm so sorry".
"Christine!"
She inhaled and felt herself jolted awake and gasped when she saw Michael peering over her. He sat next to where she lay with her upper arms grasped by his warm hands and his brow furrowed.
"Christine. Are you ok?"
"Yes. What are you doing in here?"
"I heard you crying and I was trying to wake you up. You were having a bad dream. You kept saying my name. You kept saying 'Sorry Michael' ".
"I was?"
"Yes. What were you dreaming about?"
"I" –
Luckily she was interrupted by Pippa who Christine was just noticing stood in the doorway. "Is she ok Michael?" She directed the question at her brother.
He turned to his sister. "She'll be fine; could you get her some water please?"
"Sure", Pippa turned on her heel and Christine heard her retreat down the stairs to the kitchen.
"Here, sit up", he said as he inched back and made room for her to lift herself up right. He switched on the dim lamp on the bedside table and kept a fixed stare on her. She could tell he was about to say something when they both heard a piercing scream coming from downstairs. They both bolted up and ran onto the landing and down the stairs and into the kitchen where Pippa stood surrounded by shattered glass and a puddle of water. Michael ran to her and grabbed her shoulders to shake her out of her shocked silence. Jack and Angela also appeared in the kitchen to find out what the commotion was all about.
"What's going on?" Asked Jack still bleary eyed.
"Sweetie, what's the matter?" Angele rushed to her eldest daughter's side exchanging looks with Michael and Jack.
It only took them all a matter of seconds to realise what had frightened Pippa. They felt the biting of the cool night air and all turned in unison to see that the in the kitchen which opened out onto the back patio was wide open.
"What the hell!" Jack Hodgins rushed to the door and bolted it before rushing into the hallway to check his homes security system. "Somebody disabled it." He shouted from the hallway before appearing back in the doorway of the kitchen.
Angela's eyes widened at her husband. "Molly and Lily".
"Wait here." Jack told his wife as he darted back up the stairs. Michael followed his father after reaching for a large knife and placing it in his mother's hands. After a few seconds, both men returned with Michael's sisters and they both rushed to their mother's side. Michael reached for Christine and led her into the small sitting room off the kitchen switching on a standing lamp as he did. His mother and his sisters followed and sat next to Christine on the large sofa where Michael had seated her. "Wait here again", said Jack exchanging glances with his son. "Michael and I need to check the house. Angela call the police." Michael handed her the house phone that sat on the coffee table before he disappeared with his father.
During Angela's hysterical 911 phone call, Pippa and her sisters talked frantically amongst their selves strategically darting glances around the room and staring at the ceiling whenever they heard movement from upstairs. Christine sat in silence. She felt a stone cold tingling in her spine that slowly travelled around her whole body. Had the killer been in the house? Was the killer still in the house? Were they safe even now? What about while she had been sleeping? Had the killer been in Michael's room? Had this very person who had been toying with her been so close to her tonight that they could have ended her life? That last thought brought Michael's dead lifeless body to her mind and she squeezed her eyes shut trying to ward of the horrible image. Were her dreams some sort of bad omen? Why was Michael always injured or dead in her dreams? Was he really in danger? Just then he appeared in the doorway with his Jack.
"All clear", Michael told all of them and he made his way over to Christine and wedged himself in between her and Pippa and paced her cold hand inside his warm palm.
"Are the police on their way?" Jack asked his wife and he knelt down in front of her and reached for his youngest daughter Lily, who crushed herself against her father's side with a fearful look in her eye.
"I should leave." The words came out of Christine's mouth before she even realised she'd spoken them and everyone looked at her expectantly. She let go of Michael's hand and stood in front of them all feeling like she was about ready to have a nervous breakdown.
"Christine what are you talking about?" Michael was the first to ask.
"I'm serious." She answered on a shriller note than she intended. "This is because of me! The killer is trying to toy with me and now you're all in danger so I should leave. They want me so they can have me. There's no reason any of you should get hurt in the process." Christine was about to go on with her speech when she noticed a small piece of square paper on the floor near the doorway. Distracted, she took the few strides needed to reach the paper and picked it up, and as she did so she realised it wasn't a piece of paper but a small Polaroid. She flipped it and exhaled a jagged breath at the picture and its caption. Michael stalked over to her and snatched it from her grasp. It was a picture of Michael; he was sat in the quad eating lunch with his friends. It had been taken earlier that day. Christine could tell because he was wearing the same red t-shirt and jeans he had been wearing earlier on. The caption read:
He's next!
Michael tossed the picture at his father so he could take a look and turned to Christine. "Rest easy Chris. You're not the one this sick bastard is after. Now that's enough talk about leaving. You're not going anywhere so sit down."
Christine was finally ready to close her eyes and sleep. After a couple of dim witted police officers had searched the house and assured everyone it was all clear, her father had come storming in and made a stink. He had demanded police patrols around the neighbourhood as well as a police car to be permanently stationed outside of Jack and Angela's house. The alarm system was once again up and running and Booth, although having gotten the green light on hourly police patrols and a stationed officer, was now stationed outside the house himself in his F.B.I issue Toyota with a bag of potato chips and several take away coffees provided by Angela. The house was finally quiet and everyone was sleeping peacefully now that it was almost four am. Everyone except Christine and Michael, who was lay right next her in a sleeping bag on his bedroom floor. He had insisted on it after the uproar only hours earlier. Christine tried to drift into a peaceful sleep but having Michael so close only reminded her of the horrifying dream she had had about him. She turned towards the window but was uncomfortable so she turned again so that she lay on her back staring up at the ceiling. She started to feel flushed so she sat up and turned her pillow onto the cold side and then lay back. She tried counting back from a hundred but when she reached thirteen she concluded it was a waste of time and she let out an exasperated sigh.
"What's the matter with you?" She jumped at Michael's voice and then relaxed.
"I can't sleep".
"That's not a huge surprise considering what's happened tonight". She heard a rustle and was immediately on alert.
"What was that noise?"
"Would you relax a little? I was just adjusting this sleeping bag".
"Oh."
"Christine?"
"Yes?"
"What were you dreaming about earlier? Why were you calling my name?"
"It doesn't matter".
"Tell me", he urged sounding intrigued.
"I can't…"
"Please. Please!"
"Fine! I keep having these weird dreams".
"What about?"
"Well don't flatter yourself, it's not like I'm dreaming about you naked or anything." She heard that old husky chuckle of his and went on. "Since the killings started I keep having these dreams about you."
"What am I doing in your dream?"
"You're… hurt or sometimes dead."
"Oh." He seemed lost for words and straight away she sat up and regretted sharing such information with him under the present circumstances.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything."
"Christine. Don't freak out. It's just a dream."
"But what about earlier? What about the picture and the note Michael?"
"At least there'd be nobody left to irritate you, right?" He half joked.
"Michael, I'm serious! I don't" – she had started now so she had to keep going. "I don't want you to get hurt."
There was silence for a moment and she thought she had said the wrong thing until she felt the bed sink down next to her and as she turned her face it met with his.
"Hey", he said and she turned on her side to face him. There was only an inch of free space between them but Christine didn't feel panicked or like blushing furiously or like slapping him for his sheer nerve for crawling into bed with her. She felt oddly calm. "Nothing's going to happen to me. I'll be right here. So close your eyes and go to sleep."
She didn't argue. She did exactly as he said and closed her eyes and as she did so he reached for her hand. She didn't snatch it back, she just held on tight as a faint smile reached her lips.