Bones Season 6:5: The Satisfaction in the Summer

by Bonesology Writers Collective

A retelling of Bones Season Six with new storylines, cases, relationships and twists...written by a collection of Bonesology fan fiction authors.

19. The Shock to the System

6.5x19 The Shock to the System~ Written by Squinttoyou

Cam paused as she passed the glass wall and gave her reflection a quick review. The image that returned her stare was smoking hot and her upper lip twitched slightly in satisfaction. She had missed her pre-pregnancy wardrobe and it was great to once again wear something like this. It had taken some work to shed the last five pounds, but this particular outfit and Paul's reaction to her wearing it, had been the motivation she needed to get them off. Her hands smoothed the skirt hugging her once again slim hips and feeling confident she resumed her walk.

The doors parted and the security guard allowed her guest to enter. "Mr. Garrison!" she said with enthusiasm as she donned her most grateful smile. "Welcome to the Jeffersonian Medico-Legal Lab."

The mild man in the gray fedora took the hand she offered and pumped it with enthusiasm. "Thank you, Dr. Saroyan. It is my honor."

"Don't be silly," Cam chided lightly. "We are always happy to welcome a donor, especially one with such generosity."

"It was my pleasure," he promised.

Cam figured that covered the initial butt-kissing and she pushed on. "Allow me to give you that tour so you can see just how your donation will be put to use." She began the standard donor tour of the lab stopping often to point out a particularly interesting feature or explain the work being done. As they neared one of the lower work stations near the platform she offered what was usually a well-received tidbit. "This is one of our interns, Wendell Bray. Mr. Bray is working on his doctorate in forensic anthropology. The money we receive in donations does, in part, provide the funding for his research on Maori warriors of New Zealand and eastern Polynesia."

"Fascinating," Garrison said with a simpering smile. "The Maori made brilliant employment of psychological warfare."

Cam gave a smile of approval as Wendell spoke, "I'm focusing more on the cannibalism, but the intimidation efforts were quite effective."

"Ah, the cannibalism," Garrison said with a soft tone that almost gave the term reverence. "Yes, it is quite intriguing isn't it?"

"Uh…yeah," Wendell answered suddenly feeling uncomfortable. The more morbid aspects of his research didn't normally bother him but he suddenly found it awkward to discuss.

"Ok!" Cam said cutting the tension that had developed. "We have one more stop on our tour. If you have time, Mr. Garrison, I would like to introduce you to our most distinguished staff member."

"I was so hoping you would say that, Dr. Saroyan," he quickly agreed.

"Dr. Brennan is often the highlight of the tour," Wendell added. "She's brilliant."

"Oh," Garrison said in disappointment. "Yes, I suppose Dr. Brennan is quite impressive. She has impeccable credentials. But, I must admit I was hoping for a different introduction."

Cam blinked unused to anyone but Brennan taking center stage. "Just who was it you wanted to meet, Mr. Garrison?"

"Dr. Jack Hodgins of course," he stated with enthusiasm.

There were all sorts of reasons why Cam thought she shouldn't do this, but she ignored them and escorted Garrison to Hodgins' office. Her knock was ignored and she stepped inside with her odd little tourist in tow. "Dr. Hodgins, a moment of your time, please?"

"I'm busy, Cam," Jack answered without looking up from his work.

Cam ignored that and moved closer. "This won't take but a moment," she scolded lightly hoping to draw his attention to the fact that they had a visitor.

"I don't have a moment," Jack answered. "I've got a new sample of chrysina aurigans exoskeleton in analysis."

"Beautiful creatures," Garrison gushed.

Jack's head popped up at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. Garrison was looking curiously at the notes and material he had strewn about his desk as he worked on his latest Creeps theory and Jack nearly jumped from his stool in an effort to guard his work. "Who's this?" he demanded.

"This is Mr. John Garrison," Cam introduced him. "He was kind enough to make a sizeable donation to our operating fund and we're showing our gratitude by allowing him a tour of our lab. He was most anxious to meet you, Dr. Hodgins." She stepped aside to allow the men to greet one another properly and she whispered to Hodgins as she passed. "Play nice with the other rich guy, funding is tight."

Garrison was happily pumping Hodgins hand in an eager greeting but the scientist wore a slight frown. "Don't I know you?" he said as he searched his memory for why the man looked so familiar. It came to him and his face grew slightly accusatory. "I saw you about a month ago! Out in the garden," he added almost as an accusation.

"Not a crime, lighten up," Cam scolded without moving her lips.

"A brilliant mind and a sharp memory," Garrison answered. "That was me. And, I must apologize for that evening. I very much wanted to approach you, but I found myself reluctant to interrupt your conversation with such a lovely woman."

"Ange and I were walking in the garden and he surprised us," Hodgins explained when Cam's face showed signs of terminal curiosity.

"Angela Montenegro-Hodgins," Cam said taking the opportunity to toss out another fact about the lab and its staff. "Our very talented forensic artist and computer expert."

"And your wife, Dr. Hodgins?" Garrison asked, taking note of the name Cam had given.

"Yeah, that's her," Jack answered not liking the interest this guy was showing. Something felt odd here and he began to search for a hidden danger. "Why did you want to talk to me?"

"Any true student of science would be anxious to meet you, Dr. Hodgins. Why, your combination of degrees is quite impressive! Your published research on soil degradation and rejuvenation as it relates to insect population has been praised as brilliant!" He took a deep breath and made an effort to calm his gushing praise. "But, I am almost embarrassed to say that I did have an ulterior motive," Garrison admitted. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small box. "I'm a bit of an amateur entomologist. I have a specimen here I'm very excited about but I'm unable to verify its species. I was hoping you could help me?"

Hodgins face showed his irritation but Cam jabbed him in the ribs and he took the hint. "Yeah, sure," he said reaching for the box. His attitude changed the moment he looked inside. "Dryococelus australis!"

"I was right!" Garrison cheered happily. "How exciting! An actual 'land lobster'! I was afraid to make the call myself. Thank you, Dr. Hodgins. She will be the queen of my collection."

"It's a beauty," Hodgins agreed. He still found something about this man troubling, but he couldn't deny the excellent addition this bug would make to a collection. "They are the rarest insect on the planet. It should be held in a quality environment."

"I promise, my facilities are of the highest quality." The odd little man gave an oily smile as he returned the insect to his pocket. "I appreciate the identification, Dr. Hodgins," he said gratefully and his eyes moved to Hodgins' work table as he continued. "I know you are a busy man."

B&B

"Hey!"

Brennan looked up with surprise and she answered in the same hushed stage whisper. "Hey!" He was wearing a particularly charming yet silly grin and she couldn't help but chuckle. "Why are we whispering?"

"Because that's what you do when you don't want anyone to hear you." He hurried across her office and pulled her to her feet. "Come on, let's get out of here."

He was still giving her that smile and she went to her feet willingly. The kiss he gave her was better than the smile but far too short and when his lips left hers, Brennan let her hands slide down his chest to make the moment last. "It's the middle of the afternoon, Booth," she scolded. "We can't just go."

"Aw, Bones, sure we can!" He turned up the charm in his smile and began to stroke his fingers against that spot on her back, the one where she had a very specific reaction to his touch. "By some miracle I actually cleared my desk of paperwork," he whispered to her. "And we have no open case. Wasting that combination would be criminal. Come on," he said and this time his voice dropped to a husky growl she recognized as a precursor to something pleasurable. "Come play with me, Bones."

"Booth, stop tempting me," she scolded and took a step away. She needed some space or they would be playing and they wouldn't be leaving her office before they started.

"You know you want to," he argued as he followed keeping close enough that she could feel the lure of his touch.

"Cam wanted me to meet a donor. She's giving him a tour right now."

"You hate that, Bones."

"I'm supposed to do it. It's good for the lab."

"And an afternoon together is good for us."

He made that argument as his arms slid round her from behind and she couldn't help but fall back against his chest. The fight was quickly leaving her and it showed in her voice. "It's wrong."

"That's why it's so much fun," he promised as he nuzzled against the curve of her neck. "Let's be naughty."

She gave a deep throaty chuckle as she imagined exactly how naughty he wanted to be. "What if someone asks where we are going?"

"I'll lie," he said and she could hear the triumph in his voice. "Come on."

He took her hand and started for the door. "Booth! I need to turn off my computer and straighten my desk."

"No way, we are out of here before it's too late."

"Booth! I need my bag," she scolded through her laugh.

He allowed that but the moment her hand closed around the strap, he was pulling her to the door again. They strolled to the exit at something just short of a run. As they reached his SUV his phone rang. He gave her a look of dread as he pushed the button to answer. "What's up Caroline?"

"There you are! Why aren't you in your office? My afternoon was freed up; can you and the good doctor move our meeting to today?"

"What?" Booth shouted into the phone. "Caroline! Speak up! I can't hear you?"

"Why are you yelling?" Brennan asked making him shake his head in warning.

"Caroline? Ca…I'm on my way to..."he shouted deliberately distorting his call. "See you tomorrow!"

He smirked at Brennan as he pocketed his phone and she rolled her eyes. "There is no way she will believe that ruse. Her mind is quite sharp and extremely analytical."

He lifted his phone and very deliberately pushed the power button. "We're scheduled to meet with her tomorrow. Today is about us."

An excited gleam shone in her eye as his smile began to affect her. "Should I turn mine off, too?" she asked eagerly.

B&B

He used his foot to nudge his door open and began to struggle his way inside. His burden was heavy and he needed more control over the dead weight he was wrestling so, he tossed his keys and hat onto a nearby table. Unencumbered he continued, kicking the door shut behind him as his prize cleared the threshold. Two boot covered heels thumped against the floor as he dragged the unconscious form across the sparsely furnished loft. The body made a thump as he dropped it, but there was no other reaction.

Working quickly he stripped his victim down to his undershirt and jeans. He tossed the clothes he had removed into a waiting trashcan along with everything his enemy had carried in his pockets. It was tempting to keep the cell phone, just for an opportunity to monitor how many attempts were made to locate what would soon be a missing person, but he resisted. There was a plan and he had not worked this hard to develop it to let a moment of whimsy ruin his success. Grunting as he maneuvered the dead weight of the larger man, he propped him into a seated position against the brick wall.

The iron shackles made a satisfying clank as they closed around the limp wrists. The one meant for the ankle was a bit harder to close, but he managed to get it on tight, but not bindingly so. He had tested the binders thoroughly but he couldn't help but give each chain a hefty tug. Even with his full body weight straining against it, the chain held and the anchor attached to the brick wall showed no signs of weakness.

Cleaning up took only a moment and when the trash was bagged and set aside for proper disposal later, he neared his victim again. This time he pulled a small vile from his pocket and as he knelt, he worked the stopper free. He waved the open container beneath the unconscious man's nose and chuckled at the automatic reaction he saw. "The Romans called them hammonicus sal," he explained as if his victim were listening. "The active ingredient is of course, ammonium carbonate, but I'm sure you would recognize the term smelling salt."

The man chained to the wall gave a groan and the metal rattled as his movements caused the links to shift against one another. "Wake up, Mitchel," he said, as he grew impatient for a better reaction.

There was another groan and then Mitch shook his head gently as he tried to dislodge the cobwebs from his brain. "What happened?" he asked groggily.

"You had a bit of bad luck."

"Wallace?" He squinted up at the man standing in front of him and tried to think through his confusion. He started to lift his hand and rub it over his face but the sound and weight of his bindings drew his attention away from the face he knew. "What's going on? Why am I here? What's with the chains?"

"Are you always this slow?" he sneered. "I'll chalk it up to your reaction to the stun gun. I can't imagine why she would stay with you if you are always this dim."

"Where's Joanna?"

"At her spinning class," he answered confidently. "She goes there from one to two-fifteen on Mondays Wednesdays and Thursdays. After that, she will stop at the smoothie bar for the kiwi-protein shake her trainer recommends. This is the third week of the month, so following that I anticipate she will swing by the library to assist with the tutoring program she is so fond of."

"You are stalking her!"

"Don't be absurd, a good husband pays attention to his wife's activities. I couldn't live with myself if something happened to her."

"She's my wife!"

His fist leapt forward and the blow he delivered smacked the back of Mitch's head against the wall. "She will always be mine."

"You are crazy, Wallace," Mitch accused as he shook his head to ward off the sting. His captor didn't respond and when he stood and walked away Mitch grew nervous. "What are you doing?" he demanded. "Why am I here?"

"Surely even you are intelligent enough to determine why I brought you here," he answered as he returned. He was holding a syringe and carefully squeezing the air from the needle. He tapped the syringe to free the last bubble and a drop of liquid dribbled out of the tip. "What are you doing?" Mitch asked in panic as he neared. "Wallace! Don't… No!…" He tried to protect himself, but his legs were still weak from the effects of the electricity that had been discharged through his body, and the chains prevented him from deflecting the approaching needle. He hissed at the pinch and his blood seemed to burn as the liquid entered his vein.

"Don't worry, it won't kill you," he gave a slight smile as if it were an amusing thought, "At least not right away."

"What is it?" Mitch demanded.

"A homemade concoction of sedatives and mercury dicholoride."

"Why?"

"You're going to be staying here for quite some time, Mitchel," he explained. "This will make it more pleasant for both of us. The sedatives will help you stay calm," he added as he patted the suddenly nodding head. His fingers curled tightly in the other man's hair and he tilted his head up. Mitch's eyes opened, the pain in his scalp giving him one final moment of clarity before the drugs took effect, and Wallace smiled down as he made his intentions clear. "I'm going to kill you, Mitchel. It's going to take quite a long time and it will be painful. You'll soon thank me for the sedatives."

---

"That is a fantastic smile," Booth bragged knowing he had put it on her lips.

Without lifting her head from her pillow, Brennan arched an eyebrow and then shrugged, accepting that it was likely a very accurate assessment. He inched closer and draped his arm over her bare back. She smiled at the touch that was followed by the press of his soft lips against her still heated skin. "I don't believe I have ever been this relaxed," she theorized, her voice filled with husky satisfaction.

His lips drifted against her ear and his breath was warm as he responded, "You're welcome."

Her chuckle was deep and happy and when she rolled over, she wore a broad grin. "I've never done this before."

"I know we were a little adventurous that time, but I don't think we were breaking new ground there, Bones."

"I meant…" her words trailed away and her breath caught in her throat as she reacted to him. He had been raining kisses over her as they talked but as he reached her breasts, she found it impossible to continue. The satisfaction she had been feeling began to fade and another round of desire began to build. Cupping her hand behind his head, she held him to her encouraging the attention he was giving her.

"You meant what?" he asked between slow swirls of his tongue.

Brennan pulled his head up, forcing him to slow down and allowing her to think. He knew why he was being guided upward and he crawled over her wearing a cocky grin. The sight of his bravado made her fire burn hotter. "I've never spent seven hours in bed without sleeping," she admitted. His hands had replaced his lips and she sighed at the pleasure she felt.

"It has not been seven consecutive hours," he corrected in the kind of crisp tone and precise language she often used to correct him. "We got something to eat…" he leaned over her and his dark eyes moved over her nakedness like a caress as he thought about their afternoon, "And we took that shower."

Brennan's laugh was deep. "I find those exceptions to be statistically insignificant. And you know what I mean."

"I know it's going to be a few more hours before you go to sleep," he promised.

Filled with a sudden exuberance she hooked her leg around his hip and forced him to his back. The crumpled sheets tangled around her feet and she kicked herself free as she settled on top of him. "You did say today was about us," she reminded him. Her eyes checked the clock on the table by her bed and then moved back to his happy face. "Today still has three hours remaining."

B&B

The sofa faced the brick wall, making his victim the focal point of the sitting area as if he were as entertaining as a television. He sat staring at Mitch with fascination, mesmerized not by the torturous act playing out before him, but by his own interest in it. "You know, Mitchel," he said to the man nodding groggily where he sat slumped against the wall. "I had thought you were to be my most satisfying execution. I planned your end the most carefully. The others needed retribution, but none of them wronged me as you did. What you did was unforgiveable and I took a long time to plan this. But, I have to admit," he said almost casually, "That I've found a bigger challenge. I hope you won't be disappointed to learn that you've been replaced as my mortal enemy."

He stood and walked around the couch to the opposite side of the loft. Here there were rows of insect habitats and he carefully checked the humidity level on the one containing his prize possession. "How are you my sweet?" he asked fondly. "I'm keeping a very close eye on you. I don't want today's activity to put any undue stress on you." He lowered the temperature a fraction of a degree to compensate for a reading on the display. "I do appreciate your assistance earlier. I know leaving home is uncomfortable, but I had to be certain and actually speaking with them was the only way to verify certain information." He took another moment to study the bug, smiling at the way she crawled over her domain as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened in her afternoon.

His eyes flickered up and his smile slipped away. He stood and studied the pictures that covered the wall above his habitat containers. Both his prisoner and his insects were quickly forgotten as he focused on the images. He studied the smiling faces of Dr. and Mrs. Hodgins taken as they strolled through the Jeffersonian's garden. He took a step to his right as he moved through the pictures, giving each careful scrutiny. He found the look of superiority on Dr. Brennan's face as she spoke with Hodgins to be amusing. In another, there was a sickening look of adoration on both Brennan's face and that goon she partnered with, but the indulgent expression on Hodgins' face almost made him laugh. He stopped at a large print of the entire team. He had blown this one up for a reason. The five of them were exiting a restaurant with grim expressions. It had been shortly after they had discovered his punishment to Ofelia Cruz. The looks on their faces, especially Hodgins, were bleak but under that slightly horrified expression was a determination. They looked motivated and far too confident. He had to demonstrate their foolishness.

He needed it to be severe. He needed them, especially Hodgins, to feel it. What he had seen today confirmed his suspicions; the man was paying too much attention. His plans were flawlessly executed, but he knew Hodgins - the man was intelligent enough that if he stumbled into the right information he might actually learn too much. He had only been able to glance at the notes his former colleague was working from today but it was enough to tell him that now was the time to act. Taking away Hodgins' focus would ensure that his plans were completed on schedule. He turned and looked at the man chained to his wall and his smile returned. Yes, he needed to rid himself of this pesky Jeffersonian team and Dr. Jack Hodgins because watching Mitchel die was something he had looked forward to for a very long time and he had no intention of letting it be ruined. He swiveled again and his eyes landed on the picture he studied most often. He was certain of it now. This was the right way to hurt them. It was the right way to destroy Hodgins. Certain of his task he headed for the door.

B&B

Booth heard the phone but he let Brennan answer it -it was her phone after all. She moved for it and he smiled as her warm skin slid against his. Memories of the previous day that would forever be burned into his brain returned and he began to replay all the best parts of their stolen day. What a day. It had definitely exceeded his expectations. When Temperance Brennan decided to lighten up and have a good time, she really meant 'good time'.

The grin he was wearing disappeared when he heard Brennan react to her call. The words 'Yes, this is Dr. Brennan' were uttered with a moment's hesitation. His eyes snapped open and he focused on her face. She had always thought that she didn't dread anything but she dreaded the words she was about to hear.

It was worse than he expected. She looked both panicked and sick and for a fraction of a second, he thought she just might scream. She assured someone on the phone that she was on her way and then she bolted from the bed and he scrambled to follow.

"Bones, what's wrong?"

"I have to go," she mumbled as she stepped into her closet and began grabbing clothes. She jerked several shirts from hangers and then stared at them as if she didn't know what to do with them. Finally, she threw them all down and grabbed a sweatshirt. Her favorite jeans were hanging next to it and she took them as well.

"Go where?" he asked, following as she walked to her dresser and began to rummage for underwear.

"There was a phone call. I have to go."

"I know there was a call. I was right here, Bones." The way she couldn't seem to form a coherent thought was terrifying him and his own panic began to rise. "Bones, who was on the phone?"

She was dressing, pulling on her clothing with movements so fast that they actually hampered her effort. She shook her head and returned to the closet to slip her feet into the first pair of shoes she could find.

Booth jerked open the drawer she had given him for his clothes and pulled on a pair of boxers. He snatched up a pair of socks and headed for the closet. He knew that if he didn't get some clothes on she was going to leave him without an explanation. Opting for the easiest thing available, he pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. She had her shoes on and he reached out to stop her as she took the step that he knew would be the first to carry her out the door. "Bones, you have to tell me. Is it Max?"

Her head shook again and he realized with a start that she was trembling. "Bones, talk to me."

Her eyes filled with tears and her mouth opened but no words emerged. It was as if she couldn't bear to say them. And then, in less time than it took to blink she was locked away. That iron control he knew so well settled in place and she was rational. The vibrant, sexy, emotionally indulgent woman who had awakened in his arms was gone and her protective shell was wrapped around her. "I have to…we need to go. There is an emergency." She looked into his eyes and as she explained, his heart sank. "We need to get to McKinley."

Booth followed her to the door. He still wasn't certain what they were headed toward, but he knew it was going to be terrible for all of them.

He drove with the siren on and by the time he pulled the SUV to a stop in front of the hospital he shared her dread. The full details of her call had emerged as Brennan focused on maintaining her rational control. She was clinging to it as if her life depended on it. They jumped from the vehicle in unison and he was immediately at her side. She needed him and he was determined to protect her.

There was a police officer in the lobby and he recognized Booth. "Show us," Booth ordered as he acknowledged the cop's greeting. The other man understood and he escorted them with quick efficiency leading them through the corridors of the mammoth hospital.

There was a guard at the elevator and Booth automatically took note. The cop saw his attention and explained as he pushed the button for the third floor. "You ordered us not to process the scene. The captain posted guards just about everywhere. The place was going crazy when they figured out what had happened." He winced as he realized what he had said. "Sorry, I probably shouldn't have said it like that."

Neither Booth nor Brennan responded. She hadn't said a word since they arrived and Booth was too concerned to worry about the cop's slip of the tongue. When the elevator doors parted, it was obvious where they needed to go. There was a crowd of officers milling around a doorway waiting to be released from the inactivity Booth's orders had imposed on them. Brennan hesitated. It was only for a second, but Booth saw it and he started to reach for her hand. Before he could, she curled her fingers into a fist, her palms stinging as her nails bit into her flesh, and with that pain providing clarity she forced herself to move forward. The cops at the door parted as the partners approached. Brennan entered and tears filled her eyes when she saw him.

Zach lay on an exam table. It was clear from the vacant lifeless stare of his eyes that it was too late. The dark burn marks at his temples were only confirmation of what was already clear. His lips were pulled back and his mouth hung slightly open as if he had been screaming. His hands were together, bound by silver duct tape and resting on his chest as if held in some grotesque gesture of prayer. He wore his customary pajamas but no shoes and there was a dark stain at the heel of one sock that suggested he had kicked hard enough to bring blood.

A soft whimper issued from Brennan but she immediately stopped it. She moved forward, her steps slow but resolute. The sound of her footfalls seemed inordinately loud to her. Some tiny portion of her mind, the part clinging to rationality, reasoned that all her senses were hypersensitive at the moment. She was in shock and her body was not responding well to normal stimuli. Every step sounded like thunder. She breathed and her lungs seemed to burn with the sting of fresh air. She reached the table and as she lifted her hand, the scratch of her shirtsleeve against her arm felt like sandpaper.

She was at his side. She was there and there was no way to avoid it any longer. She looked at him. Her eyes scanned the body as she always did when approaching a victim but when they reached his face, they locked there. The face she adored. The soft, innocent face of the boy she had loved as a brother. The hand she had lifted touched his head and her fingers slid into the hair he had allowed to grow so that he once again looked far younger than his years. Tears falling freely she bent and kissed his forehead. Her hand trembled as she pulled it from his hair and forced his eyelids closed.

Booth had followed her. Tears made his own sight watery and he blinked, trying to keep his own shock and regret at bay. Brennan was now tugging at the tape binding Zach's wrists. Her attempts were feeble and he brushed her hands away to do it for her.

"That is evidence," she warned jumping at the chance for a normal comment. Anything to make this moment normal, she would take anything to help make this less surreal.

"I know," he answered his voice graveled with sorrow, "But we can't leave him this way." Booth's fingers pried the tape away from the skin of Zach's left wrist. "Damn it," he swore softly. "I don't have my knife. We left too quick for me to do more than grab my gun."

A man in a white lab coat stepped forward and held out a pair of surgical shears. Booth nodded his thanks and used them to cut through the tape. A pair of gloves was offered next and he donned them before he began to pull the tape free. He winced as the sticky adhesive pulled both skin and hair from Zach's body and he tried not to think about the fact that it wasn't felt. The cop who had escorted them held open an evidence bag and Booth dropped the tape and the surgical tool inside.

Brennan took Zach's hands as the tape was removed and she arranged them in something that closely resembled a pose of sleep. As she did, a new fact became evident and a crippling sorrow filled her. Her body sagged in defeat and her throat tightened against the single word that she croaked. "No."

Booth saw it too and fury filled his veins. "Son of a bitch," he breathed. Brennan was reaching for it and he stalled her. "Let me, Bones," he said gently reminding her that he wore gloves. His fingers were gentle as they opened Zach's hand and removed the golden beetle.

"Everybody out," he said as he deposited the bug in another evidence bag. "Now!" he barked when the staff and cops gathered around the scene didn't immediately move.

Brennan was crying now. She couldn't stop. She leaned over Zach and her forehead rested against his. Her tears trickled down his face and it looked almost as if his lifeless body was the one crying. "This was not your error," she promised him. "I did this, you made no mistake."

"Bones, you didn't…" Booth began.

"NO!" She turned to yell at him without leaving Zach. Her fingers of her left hand clutched his pajama top and her right had returned to thread through his hair. "This is my fault," she hissed at him. She turned back to Zach and her voice cracked as she spoke to her protégé, "This is my fault."

He wanted to comfort her, to stop this useless blame she was assigning herself but before he could speak there was a commotion at the door. Feet thumped and squeaked against the tiled floor as if people were moving quickly and then Hodgins burst through the door with Angela at his side.

A wail of sorrow issued from Angela and she hurried forward. "No, no, no, no, no," she chanted as she joined Brennan.

"Don't touch him," Brennan ordered harshly as her friend reached for Zach. "You could contaminate the evidence."

Angela understood, unable to contain the emotion as well as Brennan, the artist sank to the floor on her knees. Her hand clutched the edge of the table, her grip on the cold metal all that prevented her from collapsing on the floor as she wept.

Jack stood rooted to the spot near the door his eyes wide and his skin pale behind his beard. "How?" he asked. Booth met his gaze but before he could speak Jack's eyes dropped to the bag the agent still held in his hands. His blue eyes turned ice cold. "Let me see," he growled as he leapt forward.

Booth thrust the bag onto the table so that it rested between Zach's legs and then met Jack's charge. His arms circled the scientist and he held tight holding him away from the evidence of Creeps' calling card. "You know what it means, Hodgins," he said as he fought to hold him back.

Jack was smaller, but he wasn't weak and Booth was only trying to stop him from touching the evidence so, when he shoved against Booth's chest he was able to break free and stumble back. His grief was suddenly unbearable and he doubled over as he gasped for air in huge quick draws. He struggled to breathe for a moment and then his head jerked up. This time his eyes were lit with a fiery anger and he bit out the words he said with the same heat.

"I want him dead," he growled. He stood and took another step forward. He was staring at Booth with command and his voice was thick with demand. "Kill him. I'm going to find him," he continued and his voice cracked, "And when I do, you kill him."

"Hodgins…"

"I said KILL HIM!" He pointed at the body on the table. "Zach is DEAD!" he screamed. "I want this piece of shit OBLITERATED!"

The tirade brought new tears from both mourning women and Booth grew livid. "Don't you EVER ask me to do that," he answered in a low and dangerous voice.

"You've got the gun, right?" Jack spat. "Time to use it."

Booth took a step forward and shoved. Hodgins stumbled back and crashed into the equipment cabinet behind him.

"Stop it!" Brennan ordered.

Her anguished cry cut through Booth's anger and he turned to her. She chastised him even as he wrapped his arms around her and he mumbled his apology though the hug they shared. He knew he was responding to Hodgins with the same grief that prompted the demand and when he looked up his anger was gone. It was only then that he realized Hodgins was gone too.

---

The room was empty except for the four of them. Angela and Brennan were both still crying, but it was more subdued as the truth began to sink in. Brennan's tears fell silently, slipping down her cheeks in mute sorrow. Angela made small crooning sounds over Zach's body, but she was careful not to touch him. They both hovered over his sallow form wanting to protect him even after it was no longer needed. Booth stood with them, doing nothing more than offering his support and grieving in his own way for the young life wasted in so many ways.

There were cops guarding the door but they offered no objection as a badge flashed and Turner stepped into the room. Sweets followed and a small woof of sound escaped him as he took in the scene. Turner reached for his hand, concerned that he was reacting badly to what he saw, but he shook his head and squeezed her hand to let her know it wasn't himself he was worried about. The young psychologist approached and his words were spoken with the concern of a friend and not that of a therapist. "I am so sorry, Dr. Brennan."

Brennan nodded but failed to look at him. He looked to Booth who shook his head, making it clear that Brennan was not to be forced into any discussion. Sweets bobbed his head up and down and stepped back, away from the couple.

"Booth, we need to start an investigation," Brennan said. Her statement held a hint of a question and she struggled to form a more direct suggestion.

"Yeah," Booth agreed sounding just as lost as she did. "I need to question witnesses," he added.

"Let me, Boss," Turner offered. She looked at the grieving women and then back to his stricken face. "I'll get things rolling here. I can call in help if I need it and the cops have already got things locked down pretty good. You should take care of your family first."

Booth started to object, to insist that he was capable of doing his job and didn't need a rookie to fill in, but one look at Brennan's face reminded him of what was truly important. "Yeah, ok," he agreed. "Thanks, Turner. Do your very best. You know him, you know what he's capable of; we have to get him this time. He's making this personal."

Her eyes were on those gathered around Zach. "Yeah, no shit it's personal," she agreed. She gave him a brief nod and then turned toward the door to start the official investigation.

Sweets was standing between Brennan and Angela and he was speaking softly. Booth's face scowled with the worry that his words would make things worse, but there were only nods and quiet acknowledgement from the women as he finished. Stepping back as their attention returned to Zach, Sweets moved to Booth's side. There was such honest sorrow on the shrink's face that Booth immediately felt remorse for his suspicions. "How you holding up, Sweets?" he asked gently.

He received a shrug in response. "I'm ok." Sweet's head swiveled to look behind him and then he turned back and spoke quietly. "This will be hard on everyone, but I don't have to tell you both Dr. Brennan and Dr. Hodgins will take this the hardest."

"Yeah," Booth agreed with a sigh. "Bones already blames herself. This is killing her, Sweets. She loved that little weirdo more than anyone on this world."

"That might have been true once," Sweets corrected, offering a tender reminder that times had changed. Booth's hand fell on his shoulder in thanks.

"Hodgins took it bad," he warned.

"Where is he?" Sweets asked looking again for the team member he was most concerned for.

"He took off. Things got a little heated. He was really upset and he just ran out of here."

"We have to find him, Booth," Sweets said with intensity. "He was already in crisis over the string of unsolved murders. This will be more than he can handle on his own."

"Yeah, this might be more than we can all handle, Sweets."

B&B

Cam stood waiting and her leg jiggled, bouncing on the ball of her foot as she released the energy she couldn't control. She felt as if she were in a dream. Had she really gotten that phone call? It didn't seem possible that something this horrible could occur while she was home, happy and safe, with her family. The phone had rung while she was feeding Macon and she had taken the phone from Paul expecting a routine report on an incoming case. The terrible words she had heard had seemed cruelly juxtaposed with the slobbery, happy, oatmeal-filled grin of her son. How could this be true?

And then, the doors parted and she knew it was true. One look at Brennan's face made it all vividly real.

The EMTs wheeled the gurney into the lab with respectful solemnity. Booth and Brennan flanked the body and Cam's throat tightened as she realized Brennan walked holding Zach's hand.

"Dr. Saroyan!" Wendell gasped as she swayed.

He reached out to steady her but she shook her head. Forcing her spine to straighten, she tried to fend off the grief making her lightheaded.

"Maybe you should sit down," the intern worried.

"No!" She squeezed his forearm in silent thanks for his concern and then stepped forward to meet the sad procession. She knew Brennan would not budge and so she stepped to Booth's side. He retreated letting her take his place as he thanked the EMTs for their service and signed the necessary paperwork.

Her fingers shook slightly as Cam reached out. She straightened the sheet covering him as if she were tucking him in before bedtime. "Oh, Zacharoni," she breathed softly. Booth had returned and his hand caressed her back in sympathy. The touch broke the last of her control and Cam sagged against him sobbing with her sorrow.

B&B

Angela wasn't surprised to see the door ajar. She climbed from her car and stood for a moment trying to decide what she was going to say. Where there any words she could say that would be of help? Her own heart was breaking and she wanted nothing more than to curl into a ball and cry her eyes out. But she knew as much as she was hurting, as devastated as she was by losing Zach, what Jack was feeling was worse. She was worried about him. He had been struggling with their inability to find Creeps. He blamed himself as every new victim was discovered. And now he would be blaming himself because they had lost someone so precious. Sighing with the realization that no answer was going to come she began to climb the steps.

It was fifteen steps to the landing above and she smiled sadly as she remembered that she knew that already. Zach had once spent twenty minutes explaining the geometry of the staircase after she asked him about the difficulty of carrying groceries upstairs. It wasn't surprising really that Jack had come here. No one stayed here and he often referred to it as Zach's' apartment, usually when he was remembering a good memory of his friend. As she neared, she heard the sound of glass breaking and she took the last few risers at a run.

Zach's old apartment was a disaster. She had been hurrying but the shock of the room's condition froze her in her tracks and she stood dumbfounded as she stared at the ransacked room. The furniture was overturned in clear evidence that Jack had vented his anger. The rubberwood dining chairs had been systematically destroyed, each bashed to pieces against their matching table which lay on its side, and chunks of the handcrafted seats littered the room. One chair leg had been used to gut the leather armchair that marked the boundary between dining and living area. The sharp end had pierced the top-grain leather of the cushion and the padding inside spilled from the wound. Another crash brought her out of her stupor and she stepped over a shattered lamp and walked into the kitchen.

This room was worse than the living room only because the large windows had offered a more spectacular mess as they were destroyed. It was a small kitchen with one wall holding the functional arrangement of appliances and cabinetry, while the opposite wall and side offered floor to ceiling windows with a panoramic view of the estate grounds. Or they had once been windows, they were now gaping holes. Shards of glass were everywhere and she wondered just how he had managed to break what she knew was tempered glass.

Turning her eyes to the deck outside the room, she found him. He leaned over the railing bent forward as he gasped for air. He looked exhausted. The glass crunched as the weight of her steps crushed it against the hardwood floor but he didn't turn to greet her. It was a beautiful day and she wished she could feel the warmth of the sun overhead through the cold darkness that surrounded them.

"Jack."

"Go away, Ange."

He still wouldn't look at her so she moved closer. "Jack, this isn't…"

"No!" he shouted, cutting her off before she could say more. He did turn now and the pain she saw brought a new level of ache to her heart. "It isn't what?" he spat fiercely. "It isn't my fault? It isn't unfair? It isn't cruel? Vindictive? A warning? He's sending a message, Angie. He's taunting me! I should have found him by now and he knows I can't!"

"You can," she tried to sooth. "We will."

"When?" he said with a cold laugh. "After he kills you? Sweets? Maybe he's really confident and he'll go after Brennan next."

"Stop!"

He fell silent and she moved closer. He didn't pull away when she touched him and she put all her love for him into the caress. "Don't let him win this way, Jack," she scolded softy. "Let's go to the lab and get to work."

"I can't," he admitted in a voice that throbbed with his pain.

"Zach would." She said it coolly, trying for all the world to sound like the calm rational tone that was the trademark of their friend. He recognized it and his head snapped up from the defeated slump in which it hung. "He wouldn't want this, Jack," she said in her own voice as she gestured to the results of his tirade. "He would tell you that you are wasting time. He would insist that the only thing that mattered was the truth and you won't find it here."

"It hurts," he admitted in a tearful whisper.

"Yeah, it does," she agreed and her own pain flared to remind her she was not done grieving. "But we have to keep moving, Jack. Zach would expect it. We owe him." She took his hand. "He's at the lab. We have to go there."

Jack didn't speak but he nodded and she led him through the apartment the crunch beneath their feet loud in the silence.

B&B

Booth rubbed his hand over his face trying to clear away the fog that clouded his thoughts. His initial shock was gone and his years of training and experience were beginning to assert themselves. They needed to get to work. Time was a factor, they had never found a Creeps' victim so soon after death and that might be important. He had lost friends before, he could move forward despite the loss. He would have to help the others do the same. He could read their inability for the next step. They had moved Zach to the autopsy room but other than that, they were at an impasse. Brennan and Cam were both frozen unwilling to leave the young genius' side and unable to do what must be done.

"We need answers," he said into the silent room.

Brennan nodded her agreement and her voice sounded thin but determined. "Yes, that is imperative." Her gaze moved to the woman at the opposite side of the gurney. "I can't provide them," she admitted.

Cam was staring down at Zach and her eyes lifted with understanding. "I…I can't," she said as her head shook. She looked at Booth in a plea for understanding. "Seeley, I can't…"

"Zach wanted his body donated to science," Brennan added, eager to deny the need for Cam's work as well. "It's too late for organ donation. If we perform an autopsy, we will negate his eligibility for a cadaver or medical research program.

"Ok, Bones," Booth soothed, concerned at the panic he heard in her voice. "What are the options? How can we find out what we need to know and still do what Zach wanted?"

"An MRI?" Wendell suggested gently. He had been standing back at a respectful distance trying to allow them their grief and still remain available. He stepped forward now and offered a solution. "It seems pretty obvious we are just confirming what we already know. Why don't I try an MRI? If it doesn't reveal what we need to know we can always have an FBI pathologist conduct an autopsy, but if we are lucky it won't be necessary."

Booth looked to Brennan for clarification and she nodded. Cam's shoulders sagged with relief and she added her approval. "It might work best. Be careful," she instructed.

"I'll be exceptionally thorough, Dr. Saroyan, I promise. I'd like to protect Dr. Addy's wishes too."

Her features twisted at the pain of her thought. "You have to find it, Wendell. He doesn't like the sound of the saw on bone. He told me that once, and…" she choked up and her tears stalled her words.

Before she could gain control and continue there was a footstep behind them and they turned to see Sweets entering. He scanned their faces openly assessing the mood and emotion he could detect. "I came to see if I can help," he said. "Have we found Hodgins?"

His question was answered as the entomologist and his wife walked into the lab. They all watched as the couple neared. Jack still looked angry but he held Angela's hand and accepted the caress of her free hand along his arm. The group gathered in Cam's workroom parted before them as they joined. Jack released the hand he held and alone he took the few steps forward to stand at Zach's side.

The silence around them was thick with anticipation as they all waited with worry. Jack stood for some time without any reaction at all. When he did finally give voice to his pain, it made them all jump. He lifted his head and a scream of guttural pain burst from his throat. He roared to the heavens as if expelling his heart and the sound was deafening. It took effort to vent such emotion and as he shouted the last of his anger he collapsed to the floor. Jack cried. The sobs of grief and remorse were unstoppable and his body shook as it was overwhelmed by his sadness.

Angela moved to comfort him but Sweets grabbed her arm. "Not just yet," he said softly. "He needs this. He needs you too, but he has to let this out."

Jack's tears were not the only ones falling and as they let the scientist and friend release the grief he had been denying they all cried.

---

"Is Jack ok to help Wendell that way?" Cam worried as she carried her tea to the lounge sofa and sat next to Angela.

"He's not really helping," Angela said as she glanced at the stairs. "He needs a chance to say goodbye and Wendell understands."

"What do you have, Turner?" Booth asked to fill the quiet that followed the idea of saying goodbye.

The young agent seemed to snap to attention as she began her report. "Dr. Addy's room was accessed at twenty-three-fifteen by use of a staff access keycard. Security reports show it was assigned to an orderly named Justin Wilkins. I sent PD to his residence and had the hospital grounds searched, but there's no sign of him."

Booth grunted. "You won't find him. I'd bet my paycheck he's dead." He caught the startled look in both Brennan and Cam's eyes and he shook his head. Reaching for Brennan's hand, he assured them both. "It's just an expression, I'm fine."

"Yeah, that was my thought too," Turner agreed moving on. "The same card was used on the door between the residential wing and treatment wing at zero-zero-five and the door to the treatment room where Dr. Addy was found at zero-zero-eight, so we have a definite timeline on when he was moved."

"Is there security footage?" Booth asked. "That place isn't exactly club med."

"Zach was moved to the green unit," Angela answered. "Security is more lax there." Her voice cracked and she cleared her throat before continuing. "It's for non-violent patients who don't pose a threat to themselves or others."

Turner nodded. "The only point on their route with active video surveillance is the treatment wing. The camera's there were rendered inoperable, but no one noticed. Security doesn't pay much attention to that feed in the middle of the night. No one is supposed to be in there."

She paused and gave a look of regret before she reported the next detail. "That room he was in; it's the electroshock therapy room."

"Electroconvulsive," Brennan corrected automatically. "That other term is no longer used."

"Right." Turner's agreement was contrite and she said her next words with regret. "The machine was set at four-hundred-fifty volts and two-point-five amps."

Sweets hissed and answered Booth's unspoken question. "That's the maximum setting. The normal therapeutic application would be about two hundred and forty volts - nowhere near that amperage."

There was a whimper from Brennan and both men turned to her. The scientist was staring straight ahead as she spoke, her body rigid as she held in what had prompted her reaction. "That setting would account for the burns at his temporal region and would support the theory that his death is the result of electrical shock."

Booth squared his jaw. He was done sitting still. "What else, Turner?"

B&B

Sweets lingered in the lounge after the others dispersed. He watched carefully as Booth and Brennan left the lab. They were on the way to ask a few questions of their own of the hospital staff. The anthropologist was still shaken especially following the call she had made to Zach's mother, but he was pleased to see a hint of her usual determination as she walked at her partner's side. She was doing better with this than he had imagined. She was leaning on Booth, allowing him to give her the emotional support she needed and it was providing the strength she needed. It had taken great effort and deep caring to make that phone call and assure Zach's mother that they were working for answers. With Booth's support, she was able to cling to the rationality she required and still feel the pain of her loss.

No, despite his early fears it was not Brennan he worried might still face a crisis. Lifting his lanky body from the railing, he squared his shoulders. He had to be careful how he approached it, but if ever there was a time for first aid this was it. Hodgins was bleeding his pain. His steps were resolute as he marched down the stairs and crossed the lab to the entomologist's office.

Jack was hunched over a work table and the glint of gold Sweets saw let him know it was the bug he was examining. "Anything?" he asked.

"Why would there be?" Jack asked. "There never is."

"I thought this time might be different."

Jack sat back. "This time is different."

"That's true." His agreement was given without inflection. "Can I get you anything, Dr. Hodgins?" he asked. "Have you eaten today?"

"No I haven't eaten," Hodgins spat as his focus returned to the bug.

"I understand if you aren't hungry," Sweets answered without responding to Jack's tone. "I brought a few things you guys can snack on while you work. I don't imagine anyone will be taking a lunch break anytime soon. They are in the lounge if you want them."

Hodgins grunted at him but seemed to appreciate that he wasn't going to force food on him. Sweets took that as a good sign. "I'm going to check in with Cam and Angela and then work up a new addendum to the profile Booth is using," he shared. "You will let me know if you need anything?" Hodgins grunted again and he realized that was all he was going to get. Pushing would do no good and he turned for the door.

"Sweets," Jack called. When the psychologist turned, he saw the defensiveness in the other man's eyes had faded slightly. "That profile," Hodgins began, "It will say that the game has changed, right? This is about us now, isn't it? About me; he's daring me."

"Daring you how?"

"I don't know! You are the shrink! Shrink him, figure it out! But don't try to convince me that going after Zach wasn't about making this personal!"

Privately he could admit that there was a possibility that was true, but he needed time to consider all the factors. And Hodgins was paranoid enough without him feeding that impulse. "I think it's always been personal for him. Everything we've seen would support that, even from the beginning. There's nothing linking the victims which tells me he chose them, all of them, for personal reasons. But I wouldn't jump to any conclusions about what those reasons are just yet, Dr. Hodgins," Sweets knew he was hedging, he just hoped it sounded rational enough to keep Hodgins from falling further into the deep end.

B&B

Booth leaned back in exhaustion as their last interview left the room. "You ok?" he asked, more concerned with Brennan's state of mind than the way this ordeal was wearing on him.

Brennan nodded and gave him a weak smile. His hand rubbed over her shoulders massaging away some of the tension he could see. She appreciated his concern and she tried to explain what she was feeling. "I need to do this. I need to determine the truth."

He wasn't surprised by that. Giving his head a little bob to recognize the reasons behind her drive, he glanced down at the notes he had taken. Turner had already spoken with the hospital staff, but there had been a few of Zach's caregivers the partners wanted to question themselves. It was a fact-finding mission, not an interrogation; they had little concern that Creeps was actually a member of the hospital team. As anticipated, their careful questions had revealed very little useful information. Zach had been a nearly model patient and the staff had been quite fond of him.

"Zach's preference for a strict schedule makes reconstructing his behavior quite systematic."

"Yeah, that's helpful."

"We should question those people who were part of his established routine."

Booth made a face. "I've never found mental patients to be reliable witnesses, Bones."

"Being a patient there does not necessarily indicate compromised reliability. Zach himself is evidence of that. Should we have ever needed to I would have trusted his testimony more readily than many 'sane' people."

Booth wondered if it was physically possible to kick himself as hard as he felt he deserved. "You are right," he said quickly taking her hand in apology. "Aw, Bones, please don't cry. I didn't mean that like it sounded."

"I know," she said accepting his apology with a sniff. "I appear to be suffering some emotional instability myself."

"Sure you are," he soothed.

The door opened and they looked up to find Caroline Julian standing in the doorway. Booth rose protectively to his feet ready to deflect any irritation the prosecutor might level away from Brennan. "Caroline, I know I blew you off yesterday and we were scheduled for today, but there is no way Bones and I can go over the Sarkin case. It will have to wait."

The usually taciturn woman nodded and waved a hand to indicate he should relax and take a seat. "I know that, Cher," she promised. "We can do that when you have time, it's not on a docket for another month so we have time. I just stopped in to tell Dr. Brennan how sorry I am for her loss."

"Thank you," Brennan answered softly. "You know, I've said those words often but I do so because Booth has taught me that they are the socially acceptable thing to say in these situations. I had never considered that they actually provide some level of comfort if you receive them."

"Small comfort," Caroline said philosophically. "I know you prefer something practical and quantitative so I'm here to tell you that if you find him, I'll make him pay. You need something to find this monster you let me know. And when you've got him, I'll make sure he pays in spades."

The fierce way she made the promise brought a smile to Brennan's lips and she smiled. "Thank you, Caroline."

"You are welcome, Temperance." She looked at Booth. "That little genius didn't deserve this. Get off your ass and get this guy."

"Yes, ma'am," Booth said as he stood. "We're on it."

The words of comfort and encouragement breathed new life into the weary partners. They discussed the information their interviews had provided as they walked to Booth's vehicle. "What we know doesn't fit," Brennan complained.

"What do you mean?"

"Zach preferred to keep himself on a schedule. He followed it diligently. Every day was the same and everything occurred at his established time, meals, therapy, exercise, study, socialization, even our visits were scheduled."

"Yeah we talked about that upstairs, Bones. It's the way Zach liked it. I'm no shrink, but I'd say it was his way of controlling what he could when his life was pretty much out of his control."

"So, how is it possible that this happened? How did someone gain his trust enough for him to allow this? Zach was exceptionally intelligent, Booth. He would not have been fooled easily."

"We've been operating under the assumption Creeps is a genius for a while now, Bones. I'd say this is just more evidence of the same. But you have to remember, as smart as Zach was he was also pretty naive, gullible even. Creeps would use that against him."

Her response went unsaid as her phone rang. She answered on speaker so Booth could hear. "Brennan."

"Wendell found it," Cam reported without preamble, her voice as professional as she could manage.

"The MRI was conclusive?"

"Yeah, I read it but any first year med student could probably see it. The shock he received was severe. The brain stem is detached from the spine."

Brennan's eyes closed and her face paled but when she spoke her voice was clear. "It is fortunate that the image is sufficient. I will make contact with the appropriate study programs to see where his body might be of most use."

"Make it a good one, Brennan," Cam said with a slight quiver in her words. "Our boy would never forgive us if it wasn't a brilliant study."

B&B

Turner stepped through the parting doors of the lab feeling a rare sense of dread. The feeling was, if she had to define it, much like the reluctance she had felt the first time she had been required to inform someone of a loved one's death. That's what this was, the death of a loved one. She hadn't known Zach Addy, but from the little she did know and what she had seen today there was no doubt this was someone who had been loved dearly. The reluctance she felt now was like that heavy dread that came as you stood on the doorstep and waited to greet whoever answered with terrible news. The difference was that when you gave that family their devastating blow, you didn't usually expect them to help you work the case. But that was what she was doing now. She was about to ask them to set aside their pain and help her solve this case. It seemed wrong and it filled her with dread.

"Hi Sweetie," Angela said. Turner looked up with surprise. She had been so lost in her own thoughts, she had failed to see the artist approach. Angela looked concerned and she touched the younger woman on the shoulder in comfort. "Are you ok?"

Turner snorted. "Shouldn't I be asking you that same question?"

"You know the answer," Angela said with a shrug. "We're doing the best we can. What about you; why the long face?"

Lifting the evidence bag in her hand Turner explained. "I found something and I need your help."

Within minutes, Angela had Cam and Jack gathered in her office and Booth and Brennan on the phone. "It's a journal," she explained following Brennan's question. "I'd say Zach wrote in it every day."

"Turner, get on it," Booth ordered. "Angela can help you."

"That might be a problem, Booth," Angela chuckled. "Have you ever tried to read Zach's handwriting? It's worse than Jack's. The computer won't be able to recognize it. I can't recognize it."

"That's true," Cam agreed quickly. "Neither one of them should ever be allowed to submit anything in writing unless they type it up."

"I'll go through it," Hodgins offered.

Angela frowned. "Are you sure, Babe?"

"I can do it," Jack insisted holding out his hand.

"Zach often left relevant notes in the margins of his work," Brennan advised. "It allowed him to capture his thoughts on other matters he might be considering at the same time and still stay on task. Pay attention to any seemingly scribbled in haste, it will have value."

"Yeah, he wrote a counterproposal to Perelman's Proof of Thurston's Geometrization Theorem on a crossword puzzle once," Jack remembered.

"Hodgins, you don't have to do this," Booth offered.

"No, I got it," Jack insisted. "I'm the only one that would know him well enough to see what's important and what's not in the journal and recognize the notations if they mean something. I can do it, Booth."

He sounded eager and as a group they realized it was his hope of finding new evidence, something they could finally use to give them a solution, which made him push through the pain of reading this particular diary.

B&B

It was getting dark before the partners returned to the lab. "Anything?" Angela asked hopefully, as they walked into her office.

"Nothing substantial," Brennan reported coolly. "The staff was cooperative, but revealed little. As expected our search of the missing orderly's residence gave no indication he is involved other than as another victim. There are a few more interviews we will conduct tomorrow. How is your search progressing?"

"If I could get through more than five minutes without crying it would go faster."

"Angela, if this is too difficult," Brennan began.

The artist cut her off. "I'm ok, Sweetie. I want to do it. It's just watching the hospital security footage is a painful reminder that Zach was living a pretty limited life. It hurts to know that is all he'll ever have."

"Yes." The single word held Brennan's complete agreement and all her pain. There was another beat of silence and then Angela turned her attention back to the monitor where the security video was displayed. Brennan gave her head a tiny shake as if to dislodge her sadness and turned to her partner. "Booth, we should begin our review of the hospital files you subpoenaed."

"Yeah, let's go I'm ready."

"Can we stay here?"

Booth had reached the door but he faced her now as she held his arm. "Sure, everything ok?"

"I would like to remain here in case Angela needs me," she whispered as she gave her friend a quick and inconspicuous look of concern.

Booth leaned in and planted a kiss to her brow. He loved that she was concerned for Angela even through her own turmoil. "It does help to be together," he agreed. Shifting the files he carried to one arm, he took her hand in his free one and they walked to Angela's sofa. In only a few moments they were hard at work and though no one said anything they all felt comforted to have the others with them.

"Anything?" The succinct question startled the three of them from their focus and they looked up to find Cam in the doorway.

"I thought you went home?" Angela asked.

"I did, but I couldn't stay. I fed Macon and gave him a bath, Paul can manage the rest of the night." She turned her head and looked in the general direction of her work room where Zach's body lay in a cold drawer. "I hate the idea of him here alone."

"Yeah," Angela agreed through a sigh.

"I'm just going to…" Cam said thumbing her hand in the direction of her thoughts. No one responded, they understood and each wondered if they should follow her example while there was still time for a few words with Zach.

There was a murmur of voices outside and then Sweets and Turner joined them. The psychologist carried several large bags and he set them on the coffee table. "We brought dinner," he informed them.

"I should get Jack," Angela said realizing they all needed to eat and Jack had not touched food or drink all day long.

"I'm right here, Angie." He was walking toward her still reading the journal he carried. When he looked up there were tears in his eyes. He scanned the faces watching him and he gave them a wry smile. "You want to hear something?"

"You found something?" Booth asked quickly.

Jack shook his head. "Not like that. But," he chuckled just a little, "it's kind of awesome." He sat and Angela propped herself on the arm of the chair wrapping her arm around his shoulders. Jack took a deep breath and shared what had his attention. "Zach wrote this about a year ago, it was right after we got back from Paris."

"Hodgins came to see me today. I am relieved to learn he intends to resume our weekly meetings. I had missed them while he was abroad. Video chats are no substitute for a personal visit. He tells me his year in Paris with Angela was most exceptional. Actually, the words he used were 'excruciating bliss' which I think was a veiled reference to their sexual activity. I'm certain that was a satisfactory component of their trip. Angela's personality suggests an affinity for physical pleasure and given the stories Hodgins likes to share about his past I believe his sexual confidence is equivalent to that of a much taller man."

Booth snorted and Hodgins had to pause as he both chuckled and sniffed at his tears. The entomologist cleared his throat and continued. "The devotion of my former colleagues still puzzles me. Hodgins continues to be the best friend I've ever had. Dr. Brennan shared much of her research on the Maluku project yesterday and promised to bring more on her next visit. The others were all away this past year, but the birthday cake Cam brought to share on my thirtieth birthday was a nice surprise and reminded me that despite my mistakes my friends still love me. The release of oxytocin in females and vasopressin in males is thought to be most directly responsible for feelings of bonding and attachment. Given the way they continue to support me, I wonder if the others suffer from elevated levels of those hormones?"

"It's just so Zach," Jack said with a soft chuckle. He spoke as he wiped his tears with the back of his hand and then he looked up still smiling. "It's Zach."

---

When the alarm clock rang, Booth rolled to silence it. They had worked very late and he still felt the need for several more hours of sleep. That groggy feeling fled quickly when he realized there was an empty pillow beside him. He rolled again until his feet hit the floor and then he stumbled down the hall to look for her.

Brennan was in the kitchen already dressed for the day. He worried that meant she had not slept at all and he approached determined to cautiously assess how she was doing. "Morning, beautiful," he greeted her as he neared.

Brennan turned and the smile she gave him was sincere but shallow, coming from the surface of her grief. "If you would ready quickly, I would appreciate it. I'd like to follow up on the information Hodgins found in the journal."

"Ok," he agreed. "But can we talk for just a minute?" He was close now and his arms slid around her waist. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, Booth. Please stop asking me that." Her hands slid over his bare arms to take any sting from her words.

"Did you sleep?"

She shrugged. "A little." He pulled her into a hug and she let him. When her head rested on his shoulder, she closed her eyes and sighed. It felt good to have him hold her. "I was happy to see you were able to sleep. I envied your ability to do so."

"Experience," he explained without letting her go. "I've lost enough buddies and still had to keep moving."

"So, necessity allows you to fall asleep like that? You were able reach your R.E.M. cycle rather quickly."

"I know a few tricks."

"Like what?"

"Good thoughts for one. I focus on something besides the pain; allow my mind to set aside the dark thoughts."

"What did you think about?" she asked suddenly dying to know. Their daily sharing of secrets had nurtured her need to know everything about him and she was instantly curious about this skill of his.

"You and coffee."

She lifted her head, her crinkled brow a clear sign she was confused. He was wearing the kind of smirk she thought she recognized. "Do you find that sexually alluring?"

"Originally I found it annoying as hell."

"I don't understand."

His arms tightened around her waist and his smile held a fondness that reflected how much he treasured this particular secret. "Have you ever watched yourself with a cup of coffee, Bones?"

"Why would I do that?"

He had to chuckle at the incredulousness of her question. "Well, you wrap your hand around the cup. They have handles you know, but you don't use them. You choke up on that thing like you are going to bunt." He paused when he saw her confusion. "You hold it high and tight," he expounded. "And then when you drink you stick half the rim in your mouth and only take a sip."

"And that annoys you?"

"Seven years ago it annoyed the shit out of me."

"But it doesn't now?"

"Somewhere along the line I realized it was one of those things."

"What things?"

"The things that make you you. The little quirks and bits of squintiness that make you the adorable, sexy, highly intelligent woman who stole my heart."

"Booth?"

She looked ready to cry again and he worried his effort to help had backfired. "What's wrong, Bones?"

She shook her head. "I want to say thank you. Thank you for the support you have given me. I don't know that I could process my thoughts and feelings regarding Zach's death without your help. I…thank you."

He brushed his lips with hers and then dropped his head so their foreheads touched. "Good and bad, no matter what, I'm there Bones. I love you. I will always be here for you."

"I know." What made Booth smile was that he could hear the truth in her words.

B&B

The discovery of Zach's journal provided them with details of his life inside the hospital. It was comforting to know he had forged ahead, living life as best he could, but it was also sad to know there was so much of his life of which they were unaware. "Did you know he was sleeping with that girl?" Booth whispered as the partners walked away from their third patient interview.

"He told me there was a woman he enjoyed spending time with. I did not realize it was a sexual relationship." Brennan looked over her shoulder at the young woman they had left sitting on the garden bench. "She is quite attractive. While her average intelligence would have been a burden to Zach, I can see how he would enjoy her company. She was very nice."

"She's crazy," Booth reminded her. "I know because she lives here."

Brennan shrugged as if that fact was of little importance. "I'm just happy to know Zach had someone to care for him."

Booth gave her a contrite look. "You're right. That is nice to know."

"Agent Booth, Dr. Brennan, how are the interviews going?" The question came from Susan Harris, the nursing supervisor for the wing in which Zach had resided. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Everything is fine," Booth assured her. "The staff has been very helpful and the patients have cooperated fully."

"Well, Dr. Addy was well liked by his fellow residents. He had a very kind heart and everyone appreciated that about him. And honestly, the staff is in a bit of a panic that this happened at all. We want to do anything we can to help."

"There is one person of interest we have been unable to locate," Brennan said just a bit gruffly. She wasn't trying to be rude, but hearing the other woman speak of Zach's gentle nature had made her misty eyed and she wanted to move on before she was crying in front of strangers. "Zach had several journal entries where he referenced a man named Ben."

Nurse Harris cocked her head as she considered the name. "I don't think we have a Ben, Dr. Brennan. Do you have any further details?"

"You must," Brennan insisted. "Zach met with him several times. They would meet at the bench in the shade near the koi pond. Zach found him to be an intelligent companion."

"Where is the koi pond?" Booth asked. They had walked all over the grounds and he didn't recall seeing it.

"You can't see it from here," Harris explained. "It's just past that row of rose bushes over there. The path curves to the left and the pond lies beneath those trees."

"Seems pretty far away from the building," Booth noted. "You let patients wander that far?"

"Not all, Agent Booth. But, despite his reason for being here with us, Dr. Addy was considered a low risk patient. He was free to come and go almost anywhere on the property as long as he followed the rules."

"Did he?"

"After you convinced him to stop taking his unauthorized day trips he never broke a single rule."

Booth smiled at that memory. They had had to talk fairly fast to convince Zach that he couldn't just break out of the hospital whenever he wanted to. "So him meeting with someone at the pond would not be unusual?"

"He often sat there. He liked to feed the fish."

"It would really help if we could speak to this Ben person."

Harris frowned. "I'm sorry, I can check the records, but I don't know any patient by that name. Do you have any other information?"

"Only that he was intelligent enough for the conversation to hold Zach's attention," Brennan answered, "And he wore a hat."

"Ah," the nurse said with a slow nod of recognition. "I think he was speaking with Mr. Curry."

"Ben Curry?" Booth asked as he made a notation on his index card.

"No, Franklin Curry."

"I don't understand," Brennan declared with a frown.

"Mr. Curry is our resident with dissociative identity disorder."

Booth shook his head. "What's that?"

"Multiple personalities," Brennan supplied. "A diagnosis which only exemplifies the unreliability of the science of psychology."

"It is a much misunderstood condition," Harris agreed without really agreeing. "I could check his record, but I do believe one of Franklin's six known alters is a man named Ben. I should have considered that possibility immediately. Dr. Addy was known to engage Franklin in discussion. I believe he found the mystery of who he would speak with to be of fascinating interest."

"Well, could we speak with him?" Booth asked suddenly remembering why he didn't like mental patients for witnesses.

B&B

"Hey, guys."

"Hi, Sweets," Angela answered with an aching smile. She was seated on her couch next to Hodgins and working from a laptop as he puzzled over one of the notes in the margin of Zach's journal. "If you are looking for Turner she was here, but she left already."

"Yeah…no; she's working on the missing orderly, I know that. I came by to see how everyone is doing."

"We're ok," the artist answered for both of them. Jack's eyes lifted for only a second and his glare announced that the question should not come to him directly.

Sweets ignored the look and focused on the team member who would speak without misplaced anger. "Were you able to get some sleep?"

"Not much, but some," Angela admitted. "We gave up about five o'clock. We got out of bed and came in to get back to work. We did stop at the diner for breakfast though," she added knowing it would be the younger man's next question.

"That's good," he approved. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Pull a bastard, crazy serial killer out of your back pocket," Hodgins growled without looking up.

"That would be nice wouldn't it?"

Sweet's mild agreement and refusal to rise to Hodgins' bait made the scientist scowl. He was looking for a fight, "What kind of psycho-babble, idiotic question is that?"

"Dr. Hodgins, your anger is expected and justified. Just don't let it prevent you from maintaining some semblance of logical thought."

Hodgins scoffed, "Yeah, I'll be sure to keep my eye on that."

Sweets turned and looked at Angela. She smiled sadly,

"The two of us are doing as well as can be expected. We'll call you if we need you." She walked toward the door, guiding the psychologist from the room.

Sweets went but as she stood blocking the doorway, he insisted on having the final word. "His expression of anger is healthy," he advised. "Try to illicit some other reactions though, even if it's tears."

"There have been plenty of those," Angela assured him.

Sweets nodded, accepting that Angela would be concerned enough to monitor her husband's emotional status. "Call me if you need me."

"Thanks, Sweets."

Angela kissed his cheek with gratitude and he felt his face pinking with a blush. Scolding himself that these people would never treat him like an adult if he didn't stop reacting like a kid, he moved on to his next patient. Cam sat at her desk, the phone to her ear and when he realized she was occupied he froze. She waved him in and he silently crossed the room and took the seat opposite as he waited. Cam said very little making only small affirmations as she responded to what was being said on the other end of the line. After several moments, the call ended and Cam carefully replaced the receiver on the phone base. Still silent she lowered her head catching her face in her hands as she slumped forward, elbows on her desk, and her shoulders drooping.

"Dr. Saroyan?" Sweets called with concern.

Cam didn't lift her head but she spoke. "That was the office of Zach's personal accountant."

"Zach had an accountant?"

"Apparently, if you don't spend your salary on things like clothes, women or stylish haircuts, and your mom continues to send you a monthly allowance, and you get put away in a mental care facility and leave your bank account to be invested by an accountant your billionaire best friend recommends, you can build up a tidy sum." Her face rose from her hands and she looked as Sweets. "Zach left his money to Macon as an educational trust fund."

"That was very thoughtful."

The tears sparkling in Cam's eyes slipped down her cheek. "Yes it was."

"You ok?" Booth called from the doorway concerned for the tears he could see.

"Yeah," the coroner promised as she swiped her eyes dry her fingers careful not to smudge her makeup. "I'll explain later. What did you find?"

"Nothing much," he reported without disguising his disappointment. "I don't know if that journal is going to be helpful or not. So far all we've managed is a nice chat with Zach's chess buddy, his girlfriend and the nuttiest nut in the nuthouse."

"Booth," Sweets scolded when he heard that characterization.

"Yeah, sorry," the agent apologized. "By the way, thanks for the addendum to the profile. Keep working it. Eventually we'll find something that will give us what we need."

"I just wish I could do more." Sweets jammed his hands in his pocket and gestured with his head toward Brennan's office, "How is she really doing?"

Booth's shoulders became rigid and his jaw tight, "She's holding it together."

"I think I should talk with her."

Booth held up his hand in protest, "No. Not a chance, not right now. I know you think you're helping and sometimes you do but most of the time you just annoy the hell out of her and she can't handle that right now."

"But I-"

"No. Trust me on this. Leave it alone, Sweets. We are dealing with it. Together, me and Bones; we've got this."

Sweets' mouth twitched but he didn't voice further objection or his hurt at the refusal. "Just let me know if you need me, ok?"

"You'll be my first call," Booth promised as he left the room.

B&B

"Wake up, Mitchel; it's time for your medicine."

"Wallace, please," the man lying on the floor begged. "Don't do this."

"Don't do this?" he scoffed. "Everything I have done has been in preparation for this moment, Mitchel. I assure you I am most certainly going to do this. I have tortured and killed and yes I enjoyed every moment of it, but it was not done for my own enjoyment. I murdered those people because they deserved it. I murdered them because with each success I grew better prepared to kill you."

"You are crazy, Wallace."

"I most certainly am not. Do you not see this for what it is, Mitchel? This is retribution. This is justice!"

Mitch tried to avoid it but the needle effortlessly pierced his sweating skin and he felt the now familiar burn as the poison entered his system. "Promise me," he hissed as he fought to control the way his mouth watered uncontrollably. He reached out the scales of his shedding skin hanging from his hand as it closed around his captor's arm. "Promise me you won't hurt Joanna."

"I love my wife," he answered. "I would never harm her."

"Fine, kill me then," Mitch mumbled as the medication pushed him back toward unconsciousness.

"Oh, I am," he answered. "And I'm quite enjoying it."

---

"There is enough food here to feed an army." Angela estimated as she returned to the group with her plate loaded to overflowing. "Which is good," she added as she looked around the crowd gathered in the Addys' Michigan home, "Because that's how many people are here."

"That's what people do at a funeral," Booth said with a shrug. "You bring food. And a big family like this means plenty of mouths to feed."

"It's not a funeral," Brennan objected. "Zach's body remains at Johns Hopkins."

"The rules apply to memorial services too, Bones," he explained patiently.

"I've been impressed with the way Zach's family accepted his wish to leave his body to science. I had anticipated a reluctance to the idea, especially from his mother." Sweets was watching the group near the window which consisted of Zach's mother, two sisters and his eldest brother. "When I spoke to her Mrs. Addy was grateful for the assistance in the matter."

"Of course we helped," Brennan said, "That's what family does."

Booth was holding her hand and he squeezed it in agreement. "She's taking this all pretty well, including that bomb you dropped on us, Sweets."

The psychologist flinched. "I can't apologize enough for that, but you have to know that I didn't keep it from you by choice. I understand if it takes some time for you guys to forgive me."

"Forgive you? Forgive you for not telling me my best friend wasn't a killer?" Jack asked. "Even when I sat in your office so angry that I hated the whole world?"

"I couldn't," Sweets said defensively.

Jack let it go and allowed Angela to pull him back against the seat where he sat next to her. "I get it, Sweets," he said more gently. "Doctor-Patient, code of ethics, mumbo jumbo; I get it."

"You did what you had to do, Sweets," Booth said reassuringly. "We know that."

"We should thank you for protecting him," Brennan added. "You are correct that he would not have fared well if sent to a standard criminal institution. I, for one, am grateful that his mistake did not lead him there."

"Thank you, Dr. Brennan."

Further discussion of the secret Sweets had revealed was stalled as the man Sweets had identified as Zach's eldest brother moved to the center of the room. He cleared his throat and tapped his wedding ring against his glass to call those gathered around to silence. "Thank you all for coming," he began when he had everyone's attention. "If you don't recognize me, I'm Michael Addy I'm the oldest of the boys. On behalf of my family, I want to thank you all for coming. At this terrible time we appreciate the love and support found in your comfort."

He took a shuddering breath as his emotion threatened his control. "I promised myself I wouldn't cry," he joked. "Zach would tell me I was being irrational. I always hated it when he did that, so I vowed it wouldn't happen today. Guess he's going to win our last argument."

He wiped the back of his hand across his eyes and cleared his throat. "Zach was the youngest," he continued when he could. "He was the most special. He was smarter than all the rest of us put together. And, oh my Lord, could that boy sing. He didn't always understand the people around him, but we didn't mind. He was Zach and we loved him."

Michael's smile appeared, sad and tender, and then he laughed gently at the memory he was about to share. "I remember the first time I knew Zach was going to be a scientist. He was nine years old. I was going fishing and he wanted to come along. Normally I didn't let him, because Zach's idea of fishing was to 'observe their behavior' which usually resulted in falling into the water and scaring them all away. But, he really wanted to go so I gave in and took him along. We were there about an hour and by some miracle, I convinced him it would be more entertaining to observe rabbits instead of fish. So, he roamed around in the field behind me and I got in some good casts from the riverbank."

He chuckled harder now and then continued. "About that time, Zach let out a whopper of a holler so I dropped my pole and went running to find out what was wrong. Turns out, he'd moved from rabbits to insects and stirred up a bee hive. He got stung. So, I'm trying to calm him and he's bawling and I'm worried about what kind of trouble I'll be in for letting him get hurt. And then I figured out he wasn't crying because he was hurt. He was crying because he thought the bee was going to die. Turns out, he'd just read some article in some junior science magazine about something called 'colony collapse disorder'. That's where all the bees in a hive just up and disappear. Apparently, it is a bit of a problem and Zach was worried that he was making the issue worse by letting the bee sting him and die."

There was a chuckle from the crowd gathered as they all enjoyed the tale. Hodgins, however, was not smiling. He jumped to his feet and dashed from the room, tripping over the corner of the small table at Angela's side as he hurried away.

His wife started to rise but Booth stopped her. "Let me try, Ange," he offered. "Sometimes, it's easier to talk to another guy." She nodded, the worry in her eyes as clear as her desperation to help her husband.

Booth told himself he shouldn't be surprised when Sweets joined him. He wasn't going to start an argument in the middle of Michael's remarks, but he lifted an eyebrow as they moved to the door.

"What? I'm a guy," Sweets argued softly. "He can talk to two guys."

The Addy home was large, a fact that seemed natural given the size of their brood, and the two men wandered through the empty rooms searching for their friend. They found Hodgins in the bedroom where the guests' coats were piled atop a bed. He stood at the window with his head bowed and his body tense.

"Hodgins," Booth called, now grateful Sweets was there if the entomologist was already in emotional collapse. He was startled when Jack turned his head bent not in grief but in concentration as he flipped frantically through the pages looking for something. "Hodgins, what are you doing? You rushed out in the middle of a eulogy for more reading?"

Hodgins held up his hand to silence the questions and continued to search. He found what he was looking for and he snatched up the book to read the passage carefully. "He did it."

The words had come out in a mumble almost too soft to hear. "What?" Booth asked.

"Zach had the answer," Hodgins said and he gasped as tears splashed on the book he held. "King of the lab, little buddy," he whispered.

"Dr. Hodgins," Sweets said, unable to still his professional concern.

Hodgins slammed the book closed hard enough that the snap made the other two men react with a start. For the first time he looked at them and his tears and his grief were gone. In their place was an intensity that burned with white-hot hate and cold victory. "I know who the son of a bitch is."

---

Who is Creeps McGee? Find out next week in part one of the season finale, The Thrill in the Victory by NatesMama, Squinttoyou and Brainysmrfs.