"Sometimes the past seems too big for the present to hold." ~Chuck Palahniuk (Lullaby)

Chapter Thirteen: I Just Want to See His Face

"He wasn't just following me, keeping tabs on me, he was watching me...For four years..."

"What the hell do you mean?" Booth asked as he looked over the massive list of dates that Sweets had painstakingly listed on the board.

"After everyone went to sleep, I was sitting here looking over the notes and a couple of the dates that he referred to me as Crimson on stuck out to me so I went into the basement got all this stuff and started going through it-"

Booth cut her off, "You're burying the lead, Charlie. How do you know he was watching you?"

She stood up and pointed to the board, "Since October 10, 2012, he has only referred to me as Crimson."

"Why is that significant?"

"It's the day I married Clay."

Booth sunk into the couch and ran his hand through his sleep-mussed hair, "Your wedding wasn't exactly a secret, it was kinda a big deal."

"I know, Seel but what about the day he proposed, June 5th of the same year? No one knew about that. We didn't announce it for weeks, I didn't wear the ring in public and yet the letter from that day is a Crimson letter."

He looked at her curiously, "I'm still not following."

"Ok." Charlotte pulled her thick hair up in a ponytail and then tapped the blue marker in her hand on the board, "August 10, 2011 was my first date with Clay."

"That's a Clover."

She nodded, "I remained Clover until the 28th of that month, that day I was Crimson."

Booth understood the implication, "You're sure about the dates?"

"Women don't forget those things, Seeley."

"So, you think it's days that were important to you? Memorable?"

Charlotte exhaled deeply, "Not quite. Look at all the dates from June 2010 through April 2011."

He leaned forward and studied the board and took notice of the significant amount of Crimson during those dates, "That's when you were…And we…"

She nodded and grabbed her field diary from that time, "These took a little bit longer to decipher but…The first time he refers to me as Crimson is on June29th – two days after Sambo was killed."

They locked eyes and she watched as her revelation caught up to him, "The first time we…" He waved his hand back and forth between the two of them.

"Yeah." She tossed the diary to him and approached the board again, "Then the next day, June 30th, I went and spent five days with the Canadian troops, remember?"

Booth nodded as he flipped through the pages, "Uh huh."

"During that time there was a five day run of him calling me Clover."

As the cipher to the puzzle became clear to him, Booth closed his eyes and shook his head ever-so-slightly, "When you were alone he called you Clover but when you were with me or Clay you were Crimson."

"That's what I think. Look at this…" She circled the dates on the board from when they were in Afghanistan together, "There's a three day period of Crimson and then five of Clover and so and so. I went back and looked over my notes and the dates match up to…when we were both in the same place."

"He was watching you…How did…" Booth leaned back into the couch and rubbed his temples, "This seems ridiculous. I can't even begin to…How?"

Charlotte fell into the over-stuffed chair in the corner of the room, "Ridiculous doesn't even begin to cover it, Seel. And honestly, I'm a lot less worried about how he did this and more concerned with why he did this, and is still doing this."

"No, the how first and then the why."

"Well, it's not like those barracks were the most structurally sound buildings. They were thrown up in a few weeks, the walls were thin…"

"They were particle board, with gaps in the seams…" Booth sighed.

"But I hung sheets over those gaps. It's not like I was inviting a peeper." Charlotte reminded him defensively.

"I know, I do but you must have missed one or…." Booth paused and twitched his jaw back and forth, "It's the only thing that makes sense, That's gotta be how he knew about your tattoo and he's probably the one who told the other guys about us. Son of a bitch…."

B&B

When the sun and the rest of the team were finally up, Booth gathered them in the living room to brief them on Charlotte's overnight discovery. Angela and Hodgins curled up, still half asleep, on the loveseat while Sweets took a place on the floor. Brennan and Gus sat straight up on the couch and Cam leaned against the wall, keeping an eye on Gus for reasons she was unsure of.

Booth looked over at Charlotte and asked with his eyes if she was ready. She nodded slowly and stood next to the board.

"I figured out why he, this person, used two different names for me in the letters…" She trailed off as she looked around the room. There was no way she could explain this to these people – Booth's family, the people that mattered most to him in the world. She glanced over at Booth, "Seeley, I-I can't…"

He nodded once and stepped to the center of the room. This is what he did, this was who he was. A man who did what needed to be done even in the most uncomfortable and difficult situations. He cleared his throat and began, "We now have concrete evidence that the stalker was in fact watching Charlie from a not-very-far distance for the last four years."

Sweets's head jerked up, "How can you possibly be so sure."

"After being up all night and reviewing the dates of the letters and matching them up to Charlie's notes and field diaries and her personal calendars we, actually she, came to this conclusion. The names he used, Crimson and Clover, were a reflection of her activities for that day." Booth looked around the room and realized that he wasn't being clear enough and he was being far too delicate. He had to remember that while this case affected the people in the room, it was still the biggest case they'd ever work on – the ramifications of the outcome would change history and now was not the time to hedge. He inhaled deeply and continued, "He was watching her closely enough to know when, where and who she was sleeping with. On those days he called her Crimson."

"That would be you and Clayton." Brennan responded, offering her husband a reassuring glance.

Even though Brennan's response was a statement and not a question, Charlotte felt the need to answer her anyway, she looked at Brennan and nodded, "Yes." She moved to the couch and sat next to Gus, suddenly feeling the need to be protected, shielded from this horrific, violating truth.

He felt her tremble and rested his arm around her shoulder, "You ok?"

"Nope." She responded flatly and then looked at Booth, "How does this help us find Clay?"

"It's a clue and we need all those we can get. Up until we've been fumbling around in the dark now, we've got something." He turned and looked at the board and then to Sweets, "I want you to go through the new information and try give us a profile. I know it's not much but-"

Sweets stood up and beamed at his boss, "It's actually a lot, Booth. I can have a profile for you before dinner."

Angela uncurled herself from Hodgins, "Let me get this straight, this guy was close enough to her for four years to know everything she did and she never knew? You, never noticed Booth? Or you Gus? Aren't you guys trained for this?"

"He's a Ranger - trained to be invisible. We wouldn't have ever seen him unless he wanted us to." Booth explained sternly.

The room became silent as everyone digested the changes to the situation until Hodgins sat up and asked the one question that was on everyone's mind, "But why Charlie?"

B&B

"Are you alright?"

Booth was pulled out of his reverie by his wife's voice, uncharacteristically tentative in the early afternoon quiet of the day. He had been staring out the living room window, watching the vultures in the press stand around the front of the Woods' home, trying to pick off whatever pieces of flesh they could from the carcass that was the biggest story in the world at the moment.

He turned and took in the woman he had married, and he couldn't help but smile. She always did that to him. Since the beginning of this case, Booth had worried about how Brennan was handling everything despite her assurance that she was fine. No matter what she insisted, he could see the worry on her features and clearly the stress of the situation was making her tense. And she looked so tired. He pushed back the guilt that once again washed over him, knowing Brennan would just get angry if he even thought about blaming himself.

"I'm fine, Bones. Just preoccupied, that's all. I-" Booth stopped midsentence as he noticed two agents outside escorting what looked like a teenager up the driveway and towards the back entrance. He turned and headed for the kitchen door, telling Brennan to find Gus and send him to the kitchen.

Booth hit the door almost simultaneously with the agents, jerking it open and blocking the entrance. "What the hell is going on, agent?"

The first agent, looking like he just graduated from the Academy, gulped in response. The second, who was closer to Booth in age, simply gestured towards what Booth could now see was a bike messenger. "Director, we intercepted this man attempting to deliver this envelope to the front door." He held up a manila envelope he was holding carefully with a napkin. "It's addressed to you and Agent Blanc."

Thankful the agent had managed to preserve the evidence, he nodded and started to speak just as he heard and felt Gus come running up behind him, Brennan hot on his heels. "Good job, Agent..?"

"Conlin, sir."

"Good work, Agent Conlin. We appreciate your resourcefulness with the evidence." He smiled as Brennan whipped a pair of latex gloves out of her pocket, noting Gus's amazed look. "Bones is always prepared, Gus."

"Obviously." He agreed without rancor. "Lucky for us. What is the kid doing here?" He pointed at the bike messenger, who looked like he was going to wet himself any minute.

"He delivered this envelope, and now he's going to come in and tell us all about it, aren't you, kid?" Booth didn't bother waiting for an answer as he grabbed the poor boy by his upper arm and dragged him into the house, Brennan and Gus trailing closely behind him.

They moved swiftly and quietly into the den, closing the door behind them. Booth sat the messenger down and glared at him. "What's your name?"

"Um…" Clearly confused and terrified, the kid struggled to get his brain to work properly. Finally, like a lightbulb going off in his head, he grinned brightly and answered. "Keifer Michaels!"

"Okay then-"

"Booth! Oh, my God!" Brennan had gotten the envelope open and was holding up a Poloroid picture with two shaking fingers.

Gus and Booth leaned over to look at the picture, both sucking in a breath at the same time. "Jesus." Gus sighed. "It's Clay."

"Yeah." Booth rubbed his forehead and turned on again. "Michaels, who gave you the envelope?"

"I dunno, man! Some guy in a baseball hat and sunglasses! He gave me a thousand bucks to drop that envelope off here, and then he took off. Only saw him for about ten seconds. I swear!"

"What was he wearing?"

"Black t-shirt and those pants soldiers wear. I think he was wearing boots, but I'm not sure."

Booth looked at Gus. "Fatigues. Dressed like a soldier. Dammit!" He turned around and looked at the picture Brennan was still holding in the air. "Gus…go get Charlotte."

"Booth…don't you think-"

"Bones, she deserves to know…now." He looked at Gus again. "You disagree?"

"Not at all, Director." He raised his eyebrows at Brennan and walked from the room.

Booth reached into Brennan's pocket and pulled out another glove, using it as a barrier to take the picture from her. "Take Keifer here out to the kitchen. We'll give him to the Sweets and then have him give a description to Angela."

Knowing that Booth was right, Brennan gestured to the messenger, who was much calmer, and led him out of the room, passing Charlie and Gus on the way.

"Seeley? What the hell is going on? Gus won't tell me anything." Charlie noticed the photo Booth was holding, but she couldn't read the look on his face. "Is that…?"

"Yeah." Booth held the picture up as Charlie skirted closer, one hand fisted on her chest as if she were literally clutching her heart, the other hand holding onto Gus.

Both men heard her breathing become shallower, and Booth briefly considered simply telling her what the photo showed, but he knew she needed to see it for herself. Booth was well-versed in women who insisted on hard evidence. She finally got close enough to take in the information on the small square Booth struggled to hold steady, and she released what Gus would later describe as a heart-wrenching sob as her knees gave out on her.

"Oh, God….oh, God!" She nodded her head continuously and hugged her legs as Gus dropped to her side and Booth kneeled in front of her.

"Charlie." Booth spoke quietly but firmly. "Look again. Make sure you understand what this means." She raised her tear-stained face, taking in the sight Booth still held in front of her. "See that? That is this morning's Post. In your husband's hands."

Gus placed a hand on her shoulder. "He's alive, Charlie. He's alive."

October 10, 2012 12:55PM: Cathedral Basilica of Saints Peter and Paul, Philadelphia, PA

I'm finding it hard to believe I'm sitting here for so many reasons. For all the things that she is, she is not this woman. Converting to Catholicism to get married to a man who will never appreciate what makes her so special is a sin in itself.

This church is full of ignorant people who are championing what they will soon realize is an unholy union.

Arcilla is standing at the altar with a man I do not know and Escolta. He looks so content – that's such a shame.