Author's Note: Well here's the next chapter, sorry it took so long to update.
I do not own Bones or any of its characters. Drat. ;)
Thank you again to everyone who is reading/following/reviewing this.
If you read no other line in this Author's Note read this one: I've decided to make this a little longer and there will be a Chapter Five, I promise. ;)
Iconcurvehemently: Well I hope you don't feel like your faith was misplaced. ;) Here is the next chapter.
Midnight666, Rowdyromantic, Cat488: Thank you all for your reviews. Hope you like this chapter as well. :D
Super ario: I have faith in him too. ;D And the good news is there will be one more chapter, so a little more to enjoy. ;) The bad news is you might hate the cliffhanger...
Peanutmeg: Thank you again for all your reviews. I hope the next two chapters do not disappoint as I wrap this up.
Bookwormlady: As a writer, I thank you...and as a writer, I apologize upfront for the end of this chapter...;)
Aysel Maha: No, there will be one more chapter as it turns out...BOTBL was one of my favorite recent episodes (I even wrote a re-do of it that's on this site) so I couldn't resist mentioning it...Thank you again for all your reviews, and again...sorry about the cliffhanger...
Stephaniew, Palmer4president: I figured that Booth would have a hard time just watching all that go on without being able to do anything, thus why he tries to at least send out positive thoughts...maybe hoping Sweets would be able to read him back?..Thank you again for your reviews. And don't worry there is a fifth chapter...;D Oh and Stephaniew, thanks again for the support recently and the prompt for this story. :)
Misscruel: I'm amazed that they mainly focus on his therapy sessions on the show...They rarely show his profiling at work and I'm sure the FBI call on him to do other things what with his having two doctorates. ;) Welcome aboard and I hope you enjoy the rest. :D
Valykirie revolution: I'm glad you like cliffhangers...enjoy this one...;D
Buttercups3: *blush* Thank you again as always. The finale did have some great Sweets moments (despite how depressing it was in so many ways)...Sorry to say, as much as I'm sure you're going to love that I updated, you're not going to like the end of the chapter either...There will be a fifth chapter, I promise. ;)
The Narrow of the Margin—part 4
"You're just like everyone else…like my old man," Connor said, the gun shaking in his grip. "He always said I was weak too…"
As he said that, inspiration finally came to Sweets. He began to remember Connor's file.
'Borderline abusive family background…There had been no official reports, but that didn't mean that it didn't spiral into full-scale abuse,' he thought. 'Probably his father made him feel weak and helpless, thus his need to control the situations in his life as much as possible.'
Sweets sniffled a bit while he tried to reign in his fear. He didn't want to share anything with this psychopath…especially not this…but he knew he had to regain Connor's trust.
And this would be the best way to do it.
"No…I'm not like your father," Sweets gasped. "I know how it is when your father doesn't believe in you…doesn't even see you as human. But just as a liability, a nothing."
To his relief, Sweets felt him loosen his grip and move the gun away from his temple.
"You try to do everything right, thinking that maybe he would be proud of you or at the very least maybe he would love you," Sweets continued. "But it doesn't matter because everything you do is wrong, no matter what it is."
Connor suddenly let Sweets go and shoved him away from him. Sweets coughed and rubbed his throat; he still felt unsteady and nauseous due to the blow to his head. But he worked hard at keeping his thoughts straight and alert.
"Yeah, that sounds just like my old man," Connor breathed. He then cocked his head at Sweets.
"You dad…your old man…that's how he was with you, wasn't it?" Sweets nodded affirmatively and Connor shook his head.
"My old man…nothing was good enough for him," Connor ranted. "He was always telling me to 'suck it up' and 'be a man'. And if I wasn't enough of a man for him…he tried to make me one with a firm backhand to the face." He then looked sideways at Sweets.
"Tell me…what did your father do? When you didn't measure up?"
The psychologist gulped; he did not want to get into this. But Connor was still very wary and wired. He knew that it wouldn't be wise to defy him in this state.
"I…He would hit me…with his hand or his belt," Sweets mumbled. "He…he told me I was worthless…Sometimes he would lock me in a closet and not let me out to eat or anything else for a long time…" Connor nodded sympathetically.
"What else?" he said, still nervously fingering the trigger of the gun. Sweets shook his head.
"I don't think that I should have to…"
"Tell me," Connor said aiming his gun at him again. "Or are you just making this up?" That thought prompted a look of rage from Connor and he quickly became agitated again.
"Is that why you won't tell me? Because you're lying and you're just saying all this so that I'll feel sympathy for you…so that I'll think that you really understand…Is that what you're doing, Doctor Sweets?"
"No, I'm not lying," Sweets said, resolute.
"Then prove it," Connor seethed. "Prove to me that you're not lying."
Sweets felt his eyes tear up again; he knew that there was one way to prove once and for all that he wasn't lying. But it was painful and humiliating for him. He then looked around at the frightened people huddled on the ground, and he knew that he would have to put his own feelings aside so that no one else would get hurt.
"If…if I can convince you that I'm not lying, will you let these other people go?" Sweets said shakily. "I promise, I won't leave, but just let these others go." Connor stared at the floor for a moment, swaying on his feet. Then he looked up and nodded.
"All right," he said. "If I believe you, I'll let the people in here go. But not them." He pointed at the room where Booth, Brennan and Fisk were watching them.
"I'm not letting them or you go," Connor said. "But the people here can leave."
It was far from what he wanted, but Sweets knew that he needed to accept this compromise so that no one else would get shot.
"All right, that's fine," Sweets said. He then pulled off his tie and began to fumble with the buttons on his shirt.
"What are you doing?" Connor said in a voice that was more curious than anything else. Sweets ignored him and tried to focus his mind anywhere else rather than think about what he was doing. Once it was unbuttoned, he turned his back toward Connor and lowered his shirt down, exposing his shoulders.
"Jesus," Connor whispered.
"My father did this to me when I was five," Sweets said, his voice swimming with tears. "He…he hated me so much that he took a whip to me and then left me in a locked closet to die…I was just lucky that a social worker found me before it was too late." Sweets then pulled his shirt back up and hastily began re-buttoning it.
"You…you weren't lying…you really do know," Connor said with awe and disgust in his voice.
From the other side of the glass, Booth didn't even hear the reactions of Brennan or Fisk. All he could see and hear were Sweets' tormented words and the scars on his back.
Booth had already known of the scars' existence; Brennan had told both him and Wyatt one day that she had seen them and where she thought Sweets got them from. He knew all too well about abusive fathers and the pain they could inflict on children.
But none of that prepared him for how he felt while seeing Sweets' back and hearing his story.
Booth grew angry again and went back to pacing. He had let Sweets know how he felt about sharing his background and made it clear to the psychologist that he was to never bring it up in therapy. And in return, Booth decided that he would never push Sweets into telling him about his unhappy childhood. If Sweets wanted to share, he would listen, but he would never initiate the conversation. Now, Sweets was being forced to expose publically what was sure to be painful and embarrassing memories just to appease a bomb wielding psycho.
'He shouldn't have to do this…not just to make that lunatic happy.'
But Booth knew that what was truly making him angry was what Sweets' father had done to him in the first place.
"Ok, I've kept my end of the bargain," Sweets said, tucking his shirt back into his pants. "Now you need to keep yours." Connor glared at him for a moment, and then lifted his gun, shooting a bullet in the air. Everyone, including Sweets, jumped.
"All right, move," Connor screamed. "Out that door, single file…and no one try anything cute."
The remaining customers and employees shuffled toward the door. Even though they were terrified, they tried to not make any sudden moves for fear of being killed. They gingerly filed out, taking care to avoid the body of the security guard, and soon Connor and Sweets were alone with Booth, Brennan and Fisk still watching them from the office.
"All right….what now?" Sweets asked. "Did you want to talk some more?" Connor just watched the door, a faraway look in his eye.
"You know…I hadn't seen my old man for years," Connor said, dazed. "And then a few weeks ago he shows up at my doorstep. He…he hadn't changed a bit, just looked older is all…He wanted money from me, I think. I told him I didn't have it. And then he just started up again telling me how disappointed he was in me…even slapped me around a little." Connor turned his gaze toward Sweets again.
"I just couldn't take it anymore," he said. "I couldn't take anymore of his abuse…So I fought back…I pushed him to the ground….Turns out though he had heart condition though…It was a coronary, the doctors said…I guess the shock of what I did killed him right then and there."
'That was it…that was the stressor that led to this breakdown,' Sweets mused. 'He had just completed a divorce from his wife and sudden reappearance of his father's taunting and then his subsequent death pushed him over the edge.'
"Hey, whatever happened to your old man?" Connor asked him.
"I…I don't know," the psychologist answered. "He went to prison for a while…but he disappeared after that. I don't know where he is." What Sweets didn't add was that he never bothered to try and find out. He wanted desperately to leave that part of his past in the past and never think about it again.
Connor's shoulders slumped and he swayed again on his feet.
"I…I'm so tired," he said quietly. Sweets moved closer to him.
"I understand," Sweets said. "You're tired of all this…the bombs, the shadow forces, the feeling of being out of control. You just want to rest…Just rest and have a chance to sort it all out and clear your head."
"Yeah…yeah, that's what I want," Connor said. "I just…I just want to be able to think straight again and to have my own thoughts and not someone else's." Sweets patted his shoulder.
"I tell you what…let's go outside," he tried again. "We'll go outside so that we can go somewhere quiet so we can talk things through. Then you can rest."
"You…you'll go with me, won't you, Doctor Sweets?" Connor asked timidly.
"Of course I will," Sweets nodded. "We'll go together." Connor rubbed his face and sighed heavily.
"All right, I'll go," he said. "But you go ahead of me." Sweets nodded and moved to stand in front of Connor.
"That's fine," he said. "I'll go first."
The two of them walked toward the door and Sweets slowly opened it.
"Don't shoot," he yelled. "We're coming out." Sweets started to walk out, but then he noticed that Connor wasn't following him. He turned back around to see that Connor had stopped and was standing there shaking as he stared at the array of cars and men waiting outside.
"No…there's too many of them," he said. "I…I can't let them get me…"
Connor reached down for the device on his belt again and Sweets' eyes grew wide.
'No…he's going to go for it…if he sets it off here, Brennan and Booth will…'
Sweets turned and made a mad grab for the trigger device, but Connor held him back. The two of them struggled for a bit, but Connor got the better of Sweets, who was still disoriented from the blow to his head. Connor pushed Sweets to the ground where he landed on his back. He then waved the gun at him wildly.
"You tried to trick me," Connor screamed advancing toward him. "You'll pay…you all will."
Sweets opened his mouth to plead with him, but Connor fired before he could say a word.
Just as he did another shot rang out from behind the cars across from him.
Inside the store, Booth could hear Connor's screams and the shooting, but he could not see what was going on from his vantage point. He was only certain of two things.
The bomb did not go off.
It was suddenly too quiet.
That silence was broken by the SWAT team running into the store. One of them went over to the woman that Connor shot earlier while another one checked on the security guard. The one near the guard shook his head and then reached for the keys that were attached to the guard's belt. Once he had them, the agent went over to Fisk's office and started to try the keys on the door. After the third one, the door opened and everyone rushed out.
Booth ignored the attempts for Brennan and the SWAT team to get his attention and made his way to the entrance and ran outside.
Lying on the ground just outside the door was Connor. A single bullet had pierced his forehead, and he was dead. The bomb squad was already trying to strip the bomb off of him.
"We need a medic here."
Booth turned toward the direction of that yell to see one of the agents kneeling on the ground. Next to him was Sweets. The psychologist was lying on prone on the pavement. Booth could see the laceration on his temple, but now his shirt was also turning red from blood that coming from a wound in his side. He was unconscious and still.
"Sweets!" he yelled, rushing over to him.