Writing fanfic, working… potato, potato.

Enjoy! We hear it's been a while… (first person to guess the quote gets a "Well duH! That scene is awesome!" from me!

What? What do you MEAN that's not enough of an incentive?)

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CHAPTER 27

They disconnected the camera.

I was numb with shock at seeing Angela so close and so furious, missing her comfort and wisdom. But the unfulfilled expectation that maybe Booth's face would be so close too now… wasn't.

It was all gone. Black.

Off.

And the silence was as painful as every millimetre separating me from Booth, and as every insecurity fighting to take over my rationality, and as every whisper of fear threatening to become a scream…

"Tempe?" Anne's quiet, weary voice sounded far away, as though miles and miles separated us. She was leaning against my chair, her cheek almost touching the side of my leg, and I smiled down at her and became myself again. I was strong and she needed comfort. I was in control now. She could rely on me.

"Yes, Anne?"

"They… can they find us? I mean, do you think he'll move us away from here?"
"I don't know. He sees everything we see, correct? Hears everything we hear?"

"Yes. Always. He already knows your friends found the camera."

I rubbed my raw wrists, feeling the plastic used to tie them peel off hairs and sting the skin there.
"If he has any sense he won't move us." What I said next was only partly true. Because if Angela could somehow trace the feed then we'd be found, and moving was the only solution. Yet… "Moving three strong women from one secure place to another without being seen is ridiculous. The moment I was alone I'd break out and help you escape. He'd be an idiot to try it."
"Stop insulting him." Anne said hurriedly. But I had a feeling. It's quite imprecise not to state what that feeling was, because to have simply a feeling and not describe said one may not make sense, but bear with me…

"And not just an idiot. He'd be a killer in my partner's cuffs with a bruise on the side of his head."

Anne clung to the chair I sat on with white knuckles, looking desperate. "Tempe…"

"Don't worry Anne, this man has the Intelligence Quotient of an average worm, and interestingly enough cephalopods have no brains…"

The door slammed open, like I'd been waiting it to.

And Frank Bram stood on the other side of it.

"You bitch."

I couldn't answer.

Bram. All along, the most obvious, the most ludicrously blatant suspect… How could we have missed it? Had we missed it? Or was Booth's fear that I fit the victim profile not the overreaction I'd thought, but a manifestation of the suspicion that this was our killer after all, that I was in real danger from this man…

He strode over to Anne, who tried to cling to me, but with his strong arms he lifted her into the air as though she was weightless, brutally twisting her fingers until she let go of my jeans.

"Put her down!" I shouted, struggling against the bonds despite knowing it was useless. I felt a blazing fury inside toward this hideous, sick man.

"I don't want her to see what we're going to talk about." Bram said, matter of factly.

What talking could there possibly be if she was in danger of seeing? I sat back and realised it would be better for Anne to leave. I steeled myself to get ready for the worst.

"What are you going to do?" Anne asked him, looking at me.

Bram didn't answer, he just slung her over a shoulder and left the room.

During those ten seconds I tried to apply as much force as I could to the tape, the chair, my arms, to twist my wrists, further hurting my fractured phalanges…

"Stop that."

He was back, and he closed the door behind him.

I stopped, feeling the adrenalin charging my brain and rampaging through my body. Telling me to run, or fight, escape, survival, self preservation, me, save myself, safety…

"I warned you, Tempe. I sent you that hair and thought that maybe you'd figure it out. Maybe you'd be smart enough and hide away, or something. But you weren't. You didn't find out in time."

I took a deep breath.

"Your boyfriend must be worried. I heard your screams, when you were fainting but you said you loved him. You must really love him, then."

Bram made a point of looking at the screen, but Booth wasn't there, nor was Angela, Cam or Hodgins.

"He's not my boyfriend." I spat.

"Honey, it's a bit late for lies, don't you think?"

"No. He's not, he doesn't love me, we tricked you to get information and you fell for it, you dumb asshole…"

He slapped my face, and my head banged against the back of the chair with whiplash. My cheek burned. Hate.

"Don't lie to me. He doesn't love you…? That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard." He dismissed my reason for living with a shake of his head, and smiled.

"You're very beautiful when you're angry. Almost as much as Margaret is, you know."

I didn't answer. For the first time, at the mention of Margaret's name, a glint of madness touched his cold blue eyes.

"You look like Anne too, though. If Margaret and I had a daughter, she'd look like you, and Anne. Exactly like Anne."

I still didn't speak. My cheek still stung from his rough hands, and I breathed heavily from the shaking rage. I wanted to scream that he was deranged. I wanted to laugh at his childish fantasies, at his delusion.

"But you must miss him. You miss your love, the other Agent, right?"

I glared.

"Right?" he asked again.

When I still didn't answer, he kicked my bound feet, but the pain was worth his anger.

"Don't worry, you'll see him soon." A painfully sharp shard of hope lodged in my heart. Did that mean…? "Your friends are very smart. Smarter than I thought, even. I didn't know she'd find the camera. Pretty Angela with her pictures… I didn't expect that. She's smart, right? Smart computer babe."

My heart pounded, loud and strong, in my chest. Hope was pumped to the rest of my body, making me drunk with it. I shouldn't be. But I was. I hoped.

"I really didn't expect that. I think they'll be able to find you. I think she's smart enough. And he's so angry… did you hear him before? 'Where is she?'" Bram laughed, imitating Booth's shouts. "Very impressive. He loves you a lot, I'll bet." He paused, as if steeling himself to do something. "Yeah, they'll find you. He's so determined and she's so smart, together they'll find you soon enough."

"Why don't you let Anne go?" I said. "I know you want Margaret, but Anne is innocent. At least let her go."

He laughed, like I'd just said something incredibly funny.

"Margaret is innocent too! She doesn't want to go, see? You don't understand, Tempe! They want to be here. Anne wants to stay with her mom. It's normal. I understand."

"You're insane." The words slipped from my mouth before I could stop them. "You're crazy, and you've deluded yourself into believing Mrs Stoker loves you and her daughter wants you."

But this was a mistake. He pushed me until my chair fell backwards with a mighty crash, and I felt the wind rush out of my lungs in a gasp. My vision went black for a moment but I blinked rapidly, to try and avoid his blows. But I couldn't move. He kicked my ribs, stepped on my already broken fingers and then slapped me again, from the ground. I didn't cry out, not once.

"Your beauty is fragile, Tempe. Like flowers. Like Lily was, and Helen. Blue means flowers, Tempe. Margaret is stronger, because her eyes are dark. Brown means wood. Your eyes, just like Lily and Helen and Anne, they're blue. Not brown."

"What about Sandra? Were her eyes brown?"

"Yes. Dark, dark eyes, Tempe. If only you could see them… almost black. She was very strong. It took very long for her to die. Longer than Lily, who had blue eyes. Do you understand now?"

"Why didn't you stab Jeanie? What colour were her eyes?"

At the mention of this name, he stiffened. I was still lying on my back on the floor, and he towered over me, but now he stood up and paced, and I couldn't see him. Only hear his steps.

"I wish I could kill you, Tempe."

A cold chill made me shiver. What had happened the night Jeanie died?

"But your boyfriend, he'd find me, right? I think he'd be so fucking pissed he'd kill me himself. I don't want him to kill me. Who would take care of Margaret, then? Who would watch Anne? She's in that teen rebel stage… poor Margaret, has her pretty hands full."

"What happened with Jeanie, Frank?"

"Shut the fuck up!" he suddenly shouted. I froze. "Stop asking me questions! Just shut up, okay?"

"Did she fight back?" I said loudly. "What happened when Anne saw her, Frank?"

"I'm going to leave you here, Tempe." He walked back to me and stood over me, so that when he spoke bits of spittle flew from his mouth and landed all around me. He was shaking with fury. "I'm going to leave you here alone without anything, no water or food or anything, you bitch. And I hope you die. Are your eyes blue enough? I really hope you die."

Are your eyes blue enough?

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How's that for creepy!

Have a nice week-end! ;)