I'm so sorry guys, for my massive absence. I needed some me time. RL is just being mean now - roller coasters and all….
Anyways, big hugs to all those who have stuck around! I can't thank you enough x This is HUGE chapter, but you guys deserve it! :)
Fasten your seat belts for this one.
Don't say I didn't warn you…
31. 4:47
Brennan couldn't remember a time in the past couple of months where she had made the decision to stay on her own. In fact, she was sure, so far, that she hadn't.
As she entered her apartment that night, the mustiness that hung in her nostrils was an immediate damper, but once she had turned the heaters on, and lit a couple of scented candles, the unwanted aroma disappeared, and the place began to feel more like home again. She turned her television on to the news, but didn't watch it. Instead, she busied herself with making dinner; a simple garden salad scattered with feta cheese and pecan nuts. Once she had drizzled dressing over the top, she collected cutlery, and brought the overly large bowel with her to the couch.
As she shovelled in one mouthful of green after the other, she felt extremely dismal. The news - which was merely a man and a woman parading an overly expressive smile - had nothing to report of but tiresome politics and grim notifications of shootings that had occurred in the dodgy ends of town.
As the ads flashed, she went to mute the sound with her remote, but hesitated when a bright beach flittered on the screen, accompanied by light music, and a fantastic hotel.
Fiji, it read.
Low airfares, it read.
Something stirred in Brennan. The cost didn't matter. The destination did.
What - are you kidding? She chided herself. You just had a fight.
The advertisement was over.
And so was the daydream.
Slumping back into the couch, she withdrew her probing phone from her jean pocket, and felt a little dejected when there was nothing there for her. Switching her television over to Pay TV, she scanned the channels, and settled on show that screened a beautiful actress that spoke to ghosts. Brennan went to her sideboard and retrieved a plain notebook and grey lead that she generally only used to scribble phone numbers in. Today, however, it was a sketchbook.
Between paying attention to the television every so often, she would shade areas of the face she drew. Having an artist for a friend had it advantages; though she wasn't a brilliant miracle worker at creating a masterpiece like Angela could, Brennan still had they ability to form the basis of a face and give it tone and detail. As her pencil swept across the small page, a face formed before her eyes, before she even knew whom she'd been drawing.
Truthfully, Booth had been on her mind ever since they had parted, and as the hours drew on, she regretted her decision even more.
The sound of a ringtone made Brennan start, before she realised that it was the woman on the show calling her husband.
He's only a phone-call away, she reminded herself.
As she stared at the strong resemblance of his face beneath her fingers, she felt her eyes sting with hot tears.
You're ruining it, she thought madly. Let go of your...imperviousness. Stop trying to be your own hero.
You're not alone anymore.
She remembered the pregnancy test.
Guilt flooded through her veins. She eyed her phone.
You're tearing this apart all on your own; your secrets are going to be the end of you. Of the both of you.
Hitting the first number on speed dial, Brennan waited anxiously for the person on the other end of the line to answer. After five rings, she stood and took her car keys from her handbag. He answered on the sixth, just as she opened her front door.
"I was worried about you," murmured Booth softly from the other side of the arch.
After a moment of painful silence, Brennan stepped forward, and lightly wrapped her arms around his torso. "God, I'm sorry," she whispered into his neck.
He was still.
She took his hand, and led him inside. Closing the door behind her, she resumed her embrace. Her partner felt rigid within her arms. Icicles piercing her heart, she stood back to observe him.
"What's the matter?" she asked quietly.
He looked at his feet, and laughed dryly. "What's the matter," he repeated. "What's the matter…? I'll tell you what is." Two brown eyes shot up and caught hers. "What's the matter, is that there is a trained, smart, remorseless man on the loose that would stop at nothing to kill you, because to him, you would just be collateral damage-"
"Booth-"
"No, listen to me, Bones. Please, for once, without interrupting me."
She checked herself.
Booth folded his arms. "What's changed?"
His partner shifted on her feet. "Nothing. Nothing has changed."
"Bones - I've been your partner for the better half of nearly seven years. I love you. I know that something's wrong." He stepped forward. "Are you…scared? I mean, are you worried that Br-"
Brennan turned away - collecting her response, and chasing away the panic for her kept secrets, she then faced him with new determination. "What happened to us? In between all of this crap going on in our lives? What about you and me?"
"What do you mean 'us'?" His arms dropped to his sides and swung. "There is no 'us'. You're so happy being on your own-"
Brennan's hearted jumped into her throat. "But I'm not-"
Booth took a step back.
"...Happy on my own." She took a deep, necessary breath. "I'm not."
"Then you've got to stop choosing when you want to be with me, and when you don't. You should want to be with me all the time; that's what happens, when two people love each other; when two people love each other so much, that they can't live without one another-"
"And I can't live without you," Brennan finished for him, stepping forward. "I do really love you so much, Booth. I know you think I don't, but I do." Hot tears collected in her eyes before she could will them away. "I know that I not r-right…for y-"
Booth silenced her with a kiss. "But you're absolutely right. And perfect. For me." When she turned her head, he redirected it to face him with his index finger. "It's just that, I know that there's something going on. I don't want you to battle it alone."
Brennan collapsed into his chest. Just tell him, the little voice encroached. What are you so afraid of?
"Booth, have…" she began, "I'm-" she broke off into a yawn.
"Exhausted," Booth murmured. "It can wait 'til tomorrow."
Submitting, she allowed herself to be led to the bedroom.
- ~ B&B ~ -
Brennan left her apartment at four-forty-seven in the morning.
Again - though shared a bed with Booth - she had managed to get away without him waking. Within another quarter of an hour, she had arrived at the lab. She knew that the Booth would be upset - one again - but she couldn't afford to be continuously halted by that. Sometimes, in achieving the greater good, she knew that she had to take blows.
Bone storage felt colder than usual. Chills ruptured down her spine as she ventured down the staircase and left the echo of her footsteps behind her. The box of Phoebe's bones lay on the table that an intern had left them on. Collecting it up in her arms, she made for the entrance again. The moment she stepped foot on the metal staircase, something far back in the basement storage clattered loudly. Slipping on her feet in fright, Brennan fell to the ground with a gasp, but managed to break her fall with the plastic tub. Deciding against investigating what exactly had happened down the corridors, Brennan fought her curiosity with fear, and continued up the stairway far more quickly than she had descended it.
When Phoebe's remains we lain out in the Bone room, Brennan levelled herself with the table and stared the skull down. Recalling all she knew about the victim, Brennan compiled everything: she was a single mother, a jockey and she had been sick with Hypophosphatasia. Filling the gaps in between with what else she knew, the simplest answer finally came.
Choking - if physically inflicted with an object (such as rope) - would show up in the bones. However, something soft - that had merely cut of her air supply - would not have. In this case scenario, the bones couldn't tell her anything.
She had been looking for an answer that wasn't there.
It was a maybe.
And this was the only logical explanation.
"Who choked you?" Brennan whispered aloud, putting all of her weight on her elbows. "What…did you do…that got you killed?" She cradled the skull in her hands.
Footsteps thundered to the doorway. "Bones!"
Brennan looked up from the gurney with a start. "Oh," she gasped.
"Oh?" Booth's eyes were wild - his body taut. "Do you have any idea what you put me through? You've got to stop doing this!"
Brennan took a deep breath. "Booth…I'm so sorry," she apologised sincerely. "I couldn't sleep…I just can't…I feel like an insomniac at the moment." She stared down at her feet.
He crossed the distance between them and embraced her tightly. "I am, quite honestly, furious with you…but I'm just glad that you're…"
"I know," she whispered into his shoulder. "Don't worry...Broadsky hasn't touched me." A guilty feeling sank in the pit of her stomach, reawakening her nausea. Swallowing hard, she pressed her face into his chest harder. Gripping his back tightly, she inhaled in his comforting scent.
"Bones?" he pressed quietly, at her shift in attitude. "You okay?"
"I will be," she promised, although it almost felt like speaking the words aloud was her way of convincing herself.
Booth broke the embrace, and stared at the bones on the illuminated surface. "So who's this?"
Brennan walked to the skull. "It's Phoebe." Before her partner could comment, she gave such a great sigh of defeat, that the worry returned to his face. "I want to get the help from Montreal," she told him, ultimately.
Booth nodded empathetically. "Okay."
Her shoulders dropped. "I'm just…exhausted. I mean, Cam was right; I can't do it."
"You can do it, Bones" he disagreed, "but it's just a lot for one person - it's just a matter of getting someone to help out. It doesn't make you any less smarter, or incompetent; it means that you're strong enough to know when you can't do something all on your own, and actually do something about it."
"But I'm not alone," she corrected him. "I have you."
He smiled tenderly. "And I, you. That's never going to change, okay?"
She moved back towards him, and he welcomed her with open arms.
"Can we take a break," she asked, "when all of this is over? Just you and I?"
"What, like a vacation?"
Her head bobbed in agreement. "It would be our first holiday together."
He returned her enthusiasm with a jovial smile. "Where to? The East Coast-"
"No." Her lips hinted of a telling smile.
"The desert?"
She laced her arms around his waist. "I was thinking more along the lines of overseas…"
"Hawaii?"
She shook her head. "No - and that's still in America," she laughed.
"Tell me."
"Fiji."
"Fiji?"
She grinned widely, nodding her head. "I mean, if you don't want to spend a lot on an overseas holiday, Fiji is a slightly more suitable solution."
"Fiji sounds great." Though Booth kissed the top of her head, his voice didn't convince her.
She eyed him skeptically. "Really? 'Cause I'll book - if you want to…"
He kissed her on the mouth this time, hungrily tugging at her lips. "I don't care about the where," he breathed in her ear, "just so long as I'm with you."
"Aww." She kissed beneath his ear. All at once, her nausea returned in a roll. Breaking away from him rush, she gripped the table for support to steady her swaying body.
"Bones?" Booth was immediately at her side, hand on her back.
"I'm fine," she coughed. "I just have a funny tummy; I haven't eaten, and it's my stomach's way of getting back at me for it."
"I'm not convinced."
"Well, you don't need to be, because it's nothing, and it'll be gone in a moment." She straightened. "Can we go to my office?"
"Sure." He held her arm, wary of letting go.
When they had reached their destination, Brennan downed a mouthful of water, and took a seat at her desk. Unconsciously, her eyes travelled to the draw beneath the surface, and settled there. No, she rebelled internally.
"Come here, baby." Booth patted to a place beside him on her couch.
She tore her eyes away from what spearheaded her thoughts, and joined her partner. Snuggling up to his side, Brennan settled her suddenly panicked heart with deep, careful breaths. Entreated to the comfort of his hand stroking the length of her torso, she drifted into a fitful sleep - but it was a slumber, nonetheless.
- ~ B&B ~ -
Hot.
Hot was the sun as it kissed her back, but made her blood cells sizzle and pop beneath the surface of her skin. Hot was the grainy sand that seeped through toes…it was the flush of her heated blood as it coursed through her veins, begging for a respite. A respite that could be delivered by a dip in the lukewarm water, that stretched out meters from her reach.
Rolling over so she lay on her belly, a lazy smile crossed her lips as her hand fell across the muscled form of her partner's stomach.
"Booth," she murmured, looking up at him. When he didn't stir from his slumber, she tried again. "Booth?"
No response. She sat up. Placed her hands on his shoulders, and flinched the moment she did.
His flesh was stone cold.
"Booth?" she cried worriedly, shaking him. "Wake up! Please!"
"I told you what would happen if you didn't stop," a dark voice whispered on the wind. "But you didn't listen."
She whirled to face the intruder. "What have you done to him?"
Broadsky stared at her with a cold, hard eye. "I tried to reason with you."
Brennan felt as though she couldn't breathe. Above, the sky darkened, and all at once dark droplets of rain splattered against her hot skin, hissing as they met the smooth surface. She turned back to her partner, and took him in her arms.
"Booth! God, please, no!"
"I tried to reason with you…" Broadsky's voice, along with his being, drifted away.
Alone on the beach, she cried out her lover's name in a vain attempt to waken his lifeless body.
"Bones…" His voice called distantly.
"Bones!" Louder. Real.
She fell from the world of dreamland, and awoke with a gasp. Panting, Brennan sat up in haze of disorientation.
"Baby." Booth kissed her clammy forehead. "It's okay."
"No." She stared up at him with wide, frightened eyes. "It's not." She leant into his chest. "It's not."
Brennan's phone buzzed at that moment, and when she made no movement to answer it, Booth picked it up instead.
"It's a text from 'Blocked'," he informed her.
The phone's owner stood and extended a hand, taking the device from him. Unlocking her phone, she opened the message.
I TOLD YOU WHAT WOULD HAPPEN IF YOU DIDN'T STOP.
Starting backwards with a choke, Brennan threw the phone away. "It's Broadsky," she betrayed, forgetting her vows to remain silent. "It-it's been him the entire time." She held her partner's gaze with wild fear, as the chips fell into place, and her comprehension became entire.
Booth's eyes darkened with something dangerous, and unfathomable. "What do you mean 'it's Broadsky'?"
She didn't reply, but the distress in her eyes answered what her words did not. He picked up her phone, and read the message.
Brennan watched as his mouth twisted into a nasty scowl - though, she knew it wasn't meant for her.
"How long have you been receiving these messages?" He snapped. When he again, received no response, then came the order, "Tell me!".
"A couple of days after we started working on the case," she uttered in a trembling voice.
"Why didn't you tell me about this?"
"Because I didn't want you to worry."
"Worry? Bones, he could kill you! Should I not be worrying about that?" He tossed the phone to the couch, and he ran his clawed fingers through his hair.
"I get that you care about me, Booth, but if Broadsky knew that you knew about them, he'd make it his game to wreck up more havoc!" She paused, and took a tentative step closer, her attitude blunted. "A-are you…are you angry because I tried to protect you?"
"No, Temperance, I'm angry because I love you!"
Brennan covered her face with her hands, and shook her head. "Don't you see? That's the problem!" She dropped them.
He recoiled as if she had slapped him.
"No, Booth," she immediately amended. "That's not what I meant…"
He stared at her with full eyes, crushed. "It's not what you m-meant-"
"No, it isn't," she cut him off firmly. "I meant that our love for each other is what's putting us in danger - but it doesn't mean that I'm going to stop loving you, okay?"
"I still don't understand why you didn't tell-" The flare of anger was rising again.
"Because I think that I might be pregnant!"
Booth froze in shock, and his face became an enigmatic mask. No word passed his lips.
She exhaled unevenly. "…And, if you knew about the text messages, and you knew about this…possibility… then Broadsky would know too, and he would stop at nothing to hurt me, so he could get to you."
Booth's shoulders rose and slackened as he heaved. "You're…you're pregnant?"
"No," she sighed, a little too quickly. "Look, I don't know. But it's very possible." She placed both hands on the side of his feverish face. "I…couldn't tell you, because somehow it seems that everything you know, becomes Broadsky's immediate knowledge too. You would be even more protective over me - if I am, in fact pregnant, and you knew I was pregnant - and that would only stir him up even more. So, I thought I was making a logical decision."
"So you risked your life...and possibly our... child's...for a maybe?"
"No, Booth. There was no risk. There is now, because you know-"
"What has he been saying, in the text messages?" Booth's change of subject was as abrupt and changeful as an unpredictable wind, but Brennan rode along with it.
"He was telling me to back off," she answered calmly. "That's all."
"Was he threatening you? Like that text message you just received?"
She paused, before replying quietly, "Yes."
Booth collected her wrists in his hands, and held them to his heart. "I need to go to the office, okay? I need my people to figure this out. Your people are already here, but I don't want you doing anything on the case just now. Do you understand?"
She shook her head. "I'm coming with you."
"No, Bones. I do not want you working this case - not now. It's too dangerous."
"It isn't up to you-"
"I won't have it."
"Booth-"
He silenced her with a passionate kiss, but she broke it off.
"I can't keep you safe if you're a moving target, and you provoke Broadsky by being involved," he reasoned fiercely.
"I don't need you to keep me safe. I can take care of myself," she answered back indignantly.
"No, you can't. Not when it comes to this. Nothing is what it seems." Taking her phone, he made for the door. "I love you."
"You can't smooth this over, with claims of love-" She followed him out. "Booth!"
He passed through the front door.
Stomping her foot, she crossed her arms and huffed.
Too late.
- ~ B&B ~ -
Booth's heart was in his throat as he made for the parking lot. Unlocking his car, he entered, and sat speechlessly for a few moments.
Pregnant?
His Bones. Pregnant. With his child.
Their child.
But it was only a possibility. She wasn't sure.
Somehow, though, he knew that she was. Though she claimed it all to be from the benefactors of stress; she hadn't been eating properly, she wasn't sleeping, she had dizzy spells, and for all he knew, she was probably suffering from rolls of nausea.
She must be, he thought, because it makes sense for her not to tell me about the text messages if she really did think she was pregnant. Even though I could wring her neck for keeping it from me, she was just doing what she thought was right.
A baby.
He turned the key in the ignition, and backed out of his park.
Just at the thought of them, starting a family together, after all they had been through - made his heart flutter like a teenager experiencing a kind of love for the first time.
Driving out past the Jeffersonian's entry gates, Booth made for the intersection. Sitting at a red light, his thoughts turned to Broadsky with a burning fire of hate boiling in his stomach. The man was going to pay - he was corrupt, and his perception of justice was tainted, but Booth vowed not to show him any sympathy.
His light flashed green, and he put pressure on the accelerator.
Out of the corner of his eye, a glimmer of a black vehicle blinded his sight.
By the time he reflexed to brake, it was too late.
Everything faded into nothing.
- ~ B&B ~ -
"Morning sweetie," Angela greeted brightly upon entering Brennan's office, grin as big as a dinner plate.
"It has been for hours now," Brennan replied absently, doodling roots on the ragged flower she had just drawn.
"What's up?" Her friend perched herself as best she could on the arm of Brennan's couch, hand massaging her womb. "Was that Booth I just saw leaving before?"
"Who else?" Brennan shrugged tiredly, and covered her face with her hands. "I told him something that I don't think I should have, Ange, and now I really think…I just…"
Both women were silent.
"Maybe if you told me what it was, I might be able to help you," Angela suggested patiently.
Brennan took a deep breath. "I told Booth that I thought I was pregnant."
"You…thought…" Angela frowned. "Wait, wait…I thought that you said that the test came back negative?"
Brennan kept a level stare. "I never took the test, Ange."
Angela's face pinched with pain, and her shoulders drooped. "You lied to me," she resigned.
"I'm sorry."
"Why? Why didn't you?"
The anthropologist stood. "I don't know."
"Don't give me that crap, Brennan. I'm your best friend. You know why. Tell me why." Angela came forward. "You owe me that."
"I don't owe you anything, Angela. I haven't taken anything from you."
"Hell, Brennan. When friends lie to each other, they deserve a bit more than a meek apology!"
Brennan folded her arms and huffed. "Well, what do you want me to tell you?"
"I want you to tell me why you faked a pregnancy test!"
"I…"
"Why, Bren?"
"I was scared!"
Angela softened. "Why were you…scared?"
"Because I don't know what I want! I know that I love Booth, and that I want to be with him more than anything in the world, but I also know that I'm sick of my job, and that all I want to do is buy a private island in the Pacific, and live the rest of my days out there - away from the world. Away from crime, and depression, and sadness, and bad memories. I know that a baby would be the most amazing thing in my life, but it would also ground me. And I…I've never allowed myself to be grounded like that. I want so much, Ange…and…I'm just afraid that Booth doesn't want the same things."
Though it was a lot to process, Angela gave her a reply. "Have you talked to Booth about all of this?" She asked.
Brennan shook her head. "Ange, I only just told him about the pregnancy and the text-messaging. Telling him about my wishes for the future wasn't my top priority-"
Cam entered. "What text messages?"
Angela seconded their boss' question.
Brennan realised her slip and explained what had happened since the beginning of the case, and then told them how Booth had just left with her phone to take to the FBI. She finished by telling them about that morning - and didn't miss the detail in Limbo.
Though both women were upset with her, all we interrupted when Brennan's computer shrilled with an email alert. Frowning, its owner swivelled the screen around so her two colleagues could read it.
It was a disposable email account, and it's ID read: fight2theend.
"Open it," Angela instructed.
Brennan complied.
I TRIED TO REASON WITH YOU.
All three women met each other's gaze with the same fear.
"Guys!" Hodgins called out from the platform. "You better come here!"
They ran. Angela waddled.
"What is it?" Cam barked roughly, nails visibly digging into her palms.
"The traces of rubber I found at the crime scene, are from car tires."
"So?" Brennan pressed impatiently as she picked up a pencil, and bent it nervously in her fingers.
"They don't just belong to a vehicle. They belong to this -" He pulled up an image of a black ute.
"Honey, what's wrong?" Angela asked shortly, as he paled.
Hodgins watched them all with a fearful. "This truck pulled out of the Jeffersonian parking lot not even a moment after Booth did. I saw it, and so I ran in here, to make sure. I mean i-it's got the same number plates, t-the s-same-"
The room suddenly felt very cold.
Brennan snapped her pencil. "I have to go to him," she barked in voice that had lost all control, "he was going to his office-"
At that moment, the security alarms buzzed, and a woman thundered towards them. "Dr Brennan…!" She yelled.
They all turned. Upon seeing the agent's mortified face, Brennan's entire body turned to ice. Colder than the room.
"It's Agent Booth…" Agent Genevieve Shaw informed her in a rush, tone unsteady.
The pencil Brennan held slipped from her fingers and hit the floor with a clatter. "Genny?" she heard herself ask, without volume or emotion.
"He's been in an accident," the young agent almost whispered.
Booth. Accident. Broadsky.
She couldn't breathe. She could hear Booth's assisting agent saying something to Hodgins, but her words blurred into a single monotone - low, and incomprehensible. Cam joined the discussion, merging in with the panicked murmurs.
Booth.
Accident.
Her head spun, and as the two words continued to circulate like a broken record. A thick curtain of blackness crept from the shadows, sucking her in like a powerful vortex; drawing all of her strength. Submitting to its infection, she slipped over the edge with no threshold to grip, and fell into darkness.
Booth!
Bones!
….Baby?
I'm sorry - that one's a bit of a killer.
You know where that button is - don't make me beg ;)
(PS - Thank you to all who have reviewed/favourited/alerted this story - especially recently - it means the world to me to know you guys care! XD )