Another new chapter for you. Some fluff followed by major case development. I realise the story is starting to get quite long and drawn out so I want to push ahead with the case. I hope it doesn't go too fast for you.
Alone in her apartment, Brennan doesn't feel like going to sleep. Her body and her mind are tired and even though she knows Booth is right and she needs to rest, she just can't relax. Rising from the couch, Temperance begins to tidy up. She plumps the cushions on the couch then reorganises the magazines on the coffee table. Needing to keep occupied, she heads her bedroom and hangs up some clothes, fixes the sheets on the bed and tidies away a few items sitting on her dresser. Next she goes to the kitchen and begins to wash up a few dishes still sitting in the sink. Then she wipes down the counter tops and cleans out her fridge. There a quite a few out of date items that get thrown straight into the trash.
Glancing at her watch she sees an hour has passed. Her apartment is clean and she really has nothing else to do. So she pulls a bottle of wine from the wine rack and sets it on the counter top. Then she finds a wine glass from the cupboard and starts back across to where she set the wine down. As she moves, her home telephone rings, startling her. She drops the wine glass which smashes into several chunks on the hardwood floor. Cursing under her breath she crouches down and begins to pick up the glass, letting her answering machine take the call. But as soon as the caller begins to leave a message Brennan rises to her feet, her eyes wide with shock.
"You're not doing very well Dr Brennan." The distorted voice of the Gravedigger taunts. "I thought you were smarter than this." Brennan walks over to the phone, her fists clenched, and stares at it as the Gravedigger continues to speak.
"There are five people out there who need your help. They're running out of air. You remember what it feels like to run out of air, don't you?" Brennan is too focused on the taunting voice of the Gravedigger to recognise the pain in her hand as the glass she had been holding cuts into her skin. "You're running out of time. They're running out of time." Ending the call with a creepy chuckle, the Gravedigger hangs up. Brennan remains rooted to the spot, staring at the phone as her breathing becomes sharp and ragged. It is only when she makes a move towards the phone that she realises she has hurt herself. Opening her clenched fist, she sees her whole hand is covered with deep red blood and there are several cuts on the palm of her hand. She watches the blood drip down onto the floor and for a moment she is paralysed. But she soon pulls herself together and goes back to the kitchen. With gritted teeth she removes the glass fragments sticking into her skin then wraps her hand in a dishcloth.
xxxx
Booth arrives back at Brennan's apartment two hours after dropping her off. Agent Syler has determined that Michael Winters, one of the names on the Gravedigger's list, is officially missing and Booth wants to get Brennan back to the lab. When he reaches her door he knocks but Brennan doesn't answer. Booth becomes a little nervous and knocks harder. Again there is no answer. So he pulls his service weapon from the holster at his hip and tries the door. Unlocked. He enters and begins to look around, calling out to Brennan as he moves. When he reaches the living room his eyes travel to something glistening on the floor under the lights above. He crouches down and gasps when he realises that what he is seeing are blood drops.
"Bones!" he calls frantically as he rises and looks around. He takes a few steps away and turns towards the kitchen. That's when he sees her. Sitting on the floor with her legs crossed and one arm pulled towards her body, her hand wrapped in a white dishcloth now stained red.
"Bones?" he softens his voice and approaches her slowly. She looks up at him with sad defeated eyes.
"He called." She whispers.
"Who did?"
"The Gravedigger."
"Did you talk to him? What did he say?" Booth asks as he kneels down in front of her, holstering his weapon.
"He left a message." Brennan winces as Booth reaches out and takes her injured hand in his.
"What happened?" he asks, glancing between her hand and her eyes.
"I cut it on a broken glass." She sighs. Booth begins to unwrap the dishcloth to expose Brennan's injury. She lets out a little cry of pain as the cloth is finally removed from her hand.
"I can't see how bad it is through the blood. We need to get this cleaned up." Booth keeps his voice soft even though he is panicking on this inside. "Let's get you up huh?" he feigns a small smile and moves into a crouched position. Slipping his hands under Brennan's arms, he hoists her to her feet then guides her over to the sink. He turns on the cold water and takes Brennan's bloody hand, moving it under the soft flow of the water. His fingers caress her skin softly as he wipes the blood away to reveal the cuts in her skin. His brow furrows as he assesses the wounds.
"Bones, these look pretty deep." He notices how the blood keeps pouring out of one particularly large cut straight down her palm. "I'm going to run you over to the hospital, get some stitches."
"I don't need stitches." Brennan sighs.
"Yes you do." Booth replies firmly as he reaches for a fresh cloth. Taking Brennan's still bleeding hand in his he tightly wraps a fresh cloth around it, applying pressure to the cuts. "I'm not arguing with you over this Temperance." The use of her first name catches Brennan's attention and she knows she will have choice but to do what Booth says.
xxxx
Forty five minutes later Brennan is sitting in an examination room with a young nurse who is cleaning her cuts. Booth used his badge to get quick attention from the doctors because he knew Brennan wouldn't sit at the hospital for hours on end waiting especially when they also have a development on the case to attend to. He hovers by the door, watching as Brennan grimaces in pain while the nurse applies antiseptic to the cuts.
"I'm all done here." The nurse announces. "The doctor will be right in to stitch these up." She packs up her equipment and manoeuvres past Booth out into the hall. He immediately steps over to Brennan and rests a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
"I hate hospitals." She mutters.
"I know." Booth smiles. His attention is drawn to the door as the doctor enters. He is an older man, tall with white hair and thick glasses.
"Dr Brennan, I'm Dr Hatton." He nods. "We'll have you out of here shortly. I just need to put a few stitches in those cuts of yours." He smiles warmly and seats himself at in front of the bed Brennan is perched on. He uncovers a tray of equipment and lifts a large needle. Brennan's eyes widen as she takes in the needle, her childhood fear surfacing.
"Now, I'm going to numb the area so you won't feel anything." He moves the needle closer to Brennan's hand and she inhales a sharp breath, her good hand reaching up awkwardly to grasp Booth's hand which is still on her shoulder. He looks down and sees how she is grasping at his fingers. He twists his hand so he can clasp hers then he moves their hands down from her shoulder to her side. His other hand reaches across her back and rests on her shoulder, squeezing gently. Dr Hatton injects Brennan's hand with a local anaesthetic and she jumps a little. Booth leans down and presses a soft reassuring kiss to the top of her head.
"It's okay." He whispers.
"Okay, we'll give that a minute or so to work." Dr Hatton goes back to the tray and begins preparing for the stitches. Brennan feels herself leaning back, finding support from Booth's chest. She closes her eyes and squeezes his hand as Dr Hatton begins to close her cuts.
Xxxx
An hour later the pair arrive at the lab. Brennan holds her hand across her stomach to avoid it being bumped into anything. Booth walks close at her side, his hand on her back. He spots the squints up on the platform but doesn't pause, knowing Brennan will want to get right to her office. As soon as they step into her office, Booth's cell rings. He answers it swiftly as Brennan settles herself behind her desk.
"Booth." He pauses and listens. "Are you positive?" he asks. Brennan tries to read the expression on his face but he doesn't give much away. "Okay, we'll get right on it." Booth ends the call and snaps the phone shut.
"What is it?" Brennan asks.
"We caught a break." Booth sighs. "Two more people from the list have been officially declared missing."
"Oh." Brennan feels her stomach lurch.
"Syler and a few other agents have been to interview the families and we think we know how they were taken." Booth walks over and slides into the seat beside Brennan. "Jason David, Constance Wright and Michael Winters all take the same bus to work. From their home addresses, Syler believes they are the last few stops on the route. My bet is that the other two victims are also on that route and use the same bus."
"I don't understand." Brennan shakes her head.
"The Gravedigger waits until only five people remain on the bus then he kidnaps them, using the bus to take them somewhere."
"He must have been driving the bus." Brennan nods.
"Syler has already contacted the bus company. He's waiting on information on the bus registration and the driver scheduled for the route."
"It doesn't help us much though." Brennan sighs heavily. "If this is how he did it, we don't know where he took the bus." Brennan lifts her hand to her chest and holds it close, beginning to feel some pain as the numbing agent used for her stitches begins to wear off. Booth notices the change on her face and leans forward.
"Does it hurt?" he asks.
"Nothing I can't handle." Brennan replies quickly. "What's our next move?"
Xxxx
Two hours later Booth, Brennan and Agent Syler are at the bus depot with the manager, Harlon Davis. He has a folder in his hands containing the information on the bus and the driver.
"The same driver works that bus route every day. Jackson is one of our best drivers.
"Jackson Clements?" Brennan asks, recognising the name from the list.
"Yes, he's been with the company since he was twenty three."
"He's also one of the names on our list of victims." Booth adds. "Do your buses have any tracking devices, GPS?"
"Only the newer vehicles. The bus you're after is one of the older models. We haven't upgraded those vehicles yet."
"We've got an APB out on the bus but it could be a long way from the city by now." Syler adds.
"They'd need gas." Davis states. "I mean, that route takes a full tank of gas."
"If you're right Booth, and the Gravedigger waited until the last four passengers and Jackson were the only ones on the bus, he'd be near the end of the route. The bus would need fuel to go much further."
"I'll make some calls." Syler nods and steps away from the group.
"The Gravedigger?" Davis asks, looking confused.
"Ongoing case." Booth nods. "Bones, we have to assume he's going to follow his MO."
"It would take a lot of planning to bury a bus."
"Bury a bus?" Davis gasps.
"Mr Davis, thank you for your help." Booth shakes his hand. "We'll be back in touch if we need anything more." With a soft smile Booth guides Brennan out of the depot and over to where Syler is standing. As the pair approaches he ends his call.
"I have agents checking all gas stations. If a bus stopped to refuel, we'll know about it shortly."
"Good work." Booth nods.
"So what? We just wait?" Brennan asks impatiently.
"There isn't anything we can do." Syler tells her. Brennan glares at him then stalks over to the SUV leaving the two FBI agents alone.
"She's under a lot of pressure." Booth feels the need to explain Brennan's sudden departure.
"The sooner we find those people the better huh?" Syler nods.
"You got that right."
Still with me?
