Hey, guys! New chapter! Yays! Thank to those reviewed, favored, and chose to watch this story--I apologize for complaining all the time for the lack of reviews, sorry, I'm just hoping that people are liking this story. Anyway, here's the lastest segment, I hope you enjoy. And I'm sorry if this is going at a slow speed and has very little Zack/Kristen interaction, but that won't last for long. Things will be speeding up after this case, which just about almost finished. So I hope you like this chapter and if you do please review. Constructive criticism is welcome, but flaming in approapiate.

Chapter Six: Twisted Illness

They had interrogated Billy Marshall, but he told them pretty much what Willow had told them, but in a calmer manner—he was still quite perturbed by his teammate's death and didn't like the thought that he had to be the one who told the coach and the rest of the team.

Billy had told them that Connor was a really likable kid, but did have their fights, especially with the whole Willow incident. Nevertheless, Billy said didn't kill Connor and wouldn't ever do such a thing. And even if he could or wanted to, he couldn't because Connor was always in the hospital and wasn't allowed many visitors or long visiting hours. Only his mother had such privileges. His mother never told Billy, the coach, or his teammates what was wrong with her son except that he was very sick. They asked the doctor and nurses, but they said they didn't know what was wrong with the boy except that one minute the boy was fine and then, the next, he wasn't. That was all Billy knew and that was all Booth, Brennan, and Kristen needed to know.

With all of that information, Booth had brought in Miss. Reilly again, who seemed very confused by that.

Like last time, Booth and Brennan sat in the interrogation room across from the befuddled and distraught fiery-headed mother and Kristen was in the other room watching behind the two-way window—she was taking notes this time, though.

"Miss. Reilly, why did you not tell us that your son had been emitted into the hospital last month and had been there up until his death?" Booth question, his eyes narrowed.

"Oh," Miss. Reilly frowned. "I-I didn't think it was important." she muttered.

"Not important?" Booth's eyebrow rose. There was a suspicious twinkle in his dark brown optics.

"It is very important, Miss. Reilly because we found feathers from a hospital pillow that could've possibly been the murder weapon and medications in his system that could only be handed out at St. Catherine's Hospital, the same hospital your son was emitted into a month ago." explained Brennan.

"Care to explain to us why your son was in the hospital for so long?" the FBI agent inquired, staring down the mother.

Miss. Reilly bit her cherry lip, a look of apprehension on her face. She sighed deeply before answering, "Connor had always been very weak since birth. His health was always abnormal. His height was even abnormal for a boy of only twelve. Anyway, this year before basketball season started, my son began to get very sick, more so than normal. And since I knew no normal doctor could help him, I took him to the hospital." she admitted.

"What was wrong with him?" Booth said.

"I'm not entirely sure. The doctor wouldn't tell me, I don't even think he knew. They just kept trying different medications on Connor." Miss. Reilly paused and her brows furrowed. She looked up at the people across the metal table from her with wide eyes suddenly. "They did it! The hospital! They overdosed my son and when they killed him they dumped him in a pond to get rid of the evidence!" she exclaimed.

Booth and Brennan exchanged looks, which Kristen recognized, but only because she was thinking what they were thinking. This lady was very quick to blame people.

"That's kind of a weird thing for a hospital to do." Booth stated, crossing his arms.

"Doesn't mean they wouldn't." Miss. Reilly countered.

"Hmmm, yes." He exhaled deeply. "Miss. Reilly, we're going to need your son's medical records and the name of his doctor at St. Catherine's."

"Of course. I'll send them right away. Anything to help you find what bastard murdered my sweet boy." she nodded curtly.

"Good. Thank you. That will be all." Booth said briskly, standing. "You may go. Someone will escort you out."

"Right. Thank you very much." Miss. Reilly got to her feet and left the interrogation room.

Once she was gone, Booth and Brennan looked at each other again and then, to the two way window knowing Kristen was staring right back. They were all thinking one thing: Miss. Reilly was becoming more and more suspicious with every passing moment.

This was worse than being in the middle school. Way worse. Kristen hated hospitals and pretty much everything that pertained to them. And yet, there she was strolling the unrealistically white hallways of St. Catherine Hospital alongside with Booth, Brennan, and Hodgins—they picked him up after Miss. Reilly sent Connor's medical records and gave them Connor's doctor, so he could check things out in Connor's room. The blonde's shoulders were hunched again, her hood pulled further over her head, and her index finger yanking on a strand of hair as her green hues darted from place to place.

Being the walking beside her, Hodgins noticed the younger person's anxiety and smirked, quite amused by it. "You okay there, Tiny?" he asked with a small chortle. Booth and Brennan were busing themselves ahead, talking to each other—Kristen couldn't help but notice how well they interacted…well, when they weren't arguing.

Her right eye twitched. "For starters, stop giving me nicknames that make fun of my height," she retorted dryly, but tightly.

"Why? They suit you since you are really short." teased the slime and bug specialist, his smirk wider.

"And you're a tree?" Kristen shot him a look. He scowled, his height was a sensitive subject too. It was her turn to smirk, which he glared at. She ignored and continued with answering his previous question, "And no, I am not okay. I absolutely detest hospitals. My feelings go far beyond hate."

"You hate a lot of things, don't you, Kris?" Booth cut in as Hodgins and Kristen's conversation had caught his and Brennan's attention as they headed to the room Connor had been staying in—they were told at the front that Connor's doctor would meet them their after he took care of another patient.

"Yes," she answered without hesitation making the older people there smirk amused. "But with very good reason, especially concerning hospitals."

"Care to tell enlighten us as to why you hate hospitals?" Booth questioned, a mocking expression on his face.

"First, they smell like lemons and death," Kristen began listing her reasons on her fingers.

"You can't smell death." Brennan pointed out logically.

"I know, but I feel like I can. It's eerie." the blonde admitted. She couldn't explain it, but that's just how she felt. She felt like she could smell and sense death looming in the hospital rooms. Pleasant, no?

"That doesn't make sense."

"I know."

"Then, how--"

Booth cut his partner off, placing a hand on her shoulder. She looked to him as he shook his head. "Let it go, Bones. Goldilocks' logic never makes sense. Don't question it." he told her making Brennan's brows furrow, Kristen deadpan, and Hodgins snicker. Brennan didn't press that matter further, though.

"Anyway," Kristen continued. "And lastly, I don't like doctors that work in hospitals. I have nothing against the people personally, just the profession. Yeah, they can give life, but they can take it away, too. I don't like people having that kind of power over me."

"Now, that's more rational." Brennan gave a nod.

"Wait, you don't like doctors for having so much power, but you have no problem with the feds or the government?" questioned Hodgins skeptically, which earned him a glare from Booth.

"No everyone is as paranoid as you, Curly." Kristen said with a shake of her head. She liked him, but his theories were pretty crazy at times.

"Whatever you say, Teeny." Hodgins shrugged.

"Stop calling me short!" she snapped, red in the face. "I'm just fun-size…" That made the males laugh, which cause her to scowl and blush—she didn't find it that funny.

"If you three are done, we've reach the room. Room 289, correct?" Brennan announced calmly, indicating to the doorway the four stood in front of.

"Yeah," Booth nodded, checking the room number that they had been given from the woman at the front desk.

They strolled inside the private room, which wasn't being used at the moment. It was identical to the other rooms in the institute. It was impeccably clean, extremely white, smelled of lemon pine, and was eerily quiet. The empty bed was done perfectly with various machines around it, not in use.

Brennan and Hodgins started to examine the bed, especially the two flat and uncomfortable looking pillows. Booth walked about the rest of the room in search of any clothes and Kristen stayed in the corner in the tense position she was in earlier.

After a minute, Brennan straightened and looked straight at Booth. "This isn't the exact pillow used to suffocate the victim, but a pillow was definitely use to asphyxiated to do so." she claimed boldly.

"So where's the real murder weapon?" he asked.

"Either in the garbage or the washing machine." Hodgins replied.

"I understand the washing machine because they wash the bedding after a week, but why the garbage?" Kristen said perplexed.

"The only way the kid could've gotten feathers in his throat and nose was if he bit into the pillow they came. He was probably screaming when he was being suffocated and just happened to chomp down."

"Oh, fun…"

"That was sarcasm, correct? Because being asphyxiated and biting pillows is not fun." said Brennan, looking to the other female oddly.

Kristen blinked—she really wondered if Dr. Brennan and Zack were from a different planet sometimes and she didn't even know them that well. "Yeah, that was sarcasm, Dr. Bren."

"Um, excuse me?" came a soft male's voice from the entrance of the room. Everyone turned to see a middle-aged man with dark hair and rimless spectacles adorned in a white coat. He looked at them all inquisitively. "You must be Special Agent Booth, Dr. Brennan, Dr. Hodgins, and Miss. Faust, correct? You wanted to speak to me on a previous patient Mr. Connor Reilly?"

"Yes, Dr. Winston, we have some questions for you, if that's alright." Booth said.

"Of course, but I do not understand why I or this hospital would be under interrogation by the FBI." Dr. Winston said.

"Mr. Reilly has been murdered. He was found in the pond of his neighbor's a couple of days ago." Brennan told him.

"O-Oh, my." the medical doctor breathed, his face paling. He plopped down into a chair in the room. "H-How terrible. How did this happened?"

"You were not aware of Connor's death?" Booth question, arms folded.

"Most definitely not." Dr. Winston turned to Booth with narrowed eyes. "Are you insinuating that I murdered the boy?"

"Is that a confession?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Agent Booth. I did not kill him."

"The kid had a lot of different medications in his system from our tox-screens and was suffocated by a hospital pillow." Hodgins stated.

"Well, if you looked at your tox-screens closer, most of those medications were very harmless and were given in very small and insignificant amounts. Some were even just placebos." the spectacled man pointed out, his voice no longer soft, but was now agitated. "So there is no way I murdered Mr. Reilly by overdosing if that's what you're thinking."

"His mother stated that Connor was a very weak child." Brennan said.

"That is true. He had a bad immune system and didn't get enough sleep, which weakened that even more. Nothing serious though."

"So then, why was he emitted to this hospital?" Booth inquired.

"Because his mother said that he was terribly ill. He just had a minor cold."

"And you kept him here for nearly a month for just a cold?"

"No, of course not."

"Then, why?"

"Because…it's hard to explain." Dr. Winston pressed his lips together tightly, clasping his hands together.

"Try us." Booth urged, sitting in the chair next to Dr. Winston. Everyone was listening in anticipation.

"…One minute the boy was perfectly fine, the next he wasn't."

That was exactly what everyone else had been telling them. So no one lying about that, but what did that mean then? How could someone be healthy one at one moment and then, be sick the next? What kind of an illness was this? Is Connor was even really sick?

"Can you elaborate, Doc?" Booth said, starting to become a bit impatient. Someone was lying and he was tired of getting the same answers.

"In other words, during the day, Connor was fine. No signs of anything irregular except his usual fatigue and weak immune system. However, at night, just before visiting hours are finished and it's time for the patients to go to bed, his conditions changes. Sometimes drastically. His heart monitor is racing and he's screaming in pain. But we find nothing wrong yet, we leave him over night for tests just in case. Thus, the different medications and why we kept him here so long." Dr. Winston explained in a strained voice. "It was all so strange. There was no plausible explanation for it all."

For a while, no one said anything letting what the doctor had said process.

Then, Dr. Brennan spoke up, "We are going to need to look at all of the medications you prescribed to Mr. Reilly and are going to need access to the bedding of this bed, mostly the pillows, when Mr. Reilly was residing here." she declared.

Shakily, Dr. Winston nodded. "O-Of course. You can take whatever you need. Connor was a good kid, he didn't deserve to die." the dark-haired man said sincerely.

Inwardly, Kristen smiled. His mother was at least being honest when she said everyone loved her son…

"There are security camera in the hospital, right?" Booth asked.

"Naturally. In every patients' room and in every hallway."

"Then, we're going to need the tapes of when Connor staying in here."

"Yes, yes. Anything else?"

"And a record of Connor's visitors?"

"Sure. I will get all of it for you right away."

Booth grinned a tad. "Thank you very much."

"Of course." Dr. Winston just nodded. He then, stood. "For starters, I can lead you to our supply room where we keep our medicine supply and I can call a nurse to take one of you to the laundry room for the bedding."

Very grateful for his assistance, Booth and Brennan said they'd go with the doctor to the supply room and Hodgins volunteered to go with the nurse, especially when he got a look of her—a pretty brunette with big doe eyes. However, since it was getting late and Kristen had class tomorrow early, she said regrettably that she should probably get back home to her apartment and that Austen would pick her up. So with that, they said their goodnights to the blonde—adding that they'd keep her updated—before the four went their separate ways.