Chapter 6 - The Rash in the Decision

Tapping at the door to the adjoining room Dr. Brennan occupied, Agent Simons called softly, "Dr. Brennan? Can you come out for a moment please?" Simons had no idea what she did in there to occupy herself, but she'd barely been seen over the last five days. She'd go out to the hotel gym at least once a day, often in the middle of the night, claiming she couldn't sleep. Brennan opened the door, looking at him questioningly. He took a brief moment to observe her, before responding. She looked like hell. Her eyes were sunken in and dull, her cheeks hollow and bags under her eyes. The whole being "dead" concept was obviously not suiting her. He didn't really understand what drove this woman, but clearly something was eating at her. But she didn't talk to them unless she had to, and given her reputation, he didn't really feel like risking her wrath to ask.

"Dr. Brennan, I'm sorry to disturb you, but Assistant Director Cullen is here and he'd like to speak with you for a moment," Simons said.

Brennan glanced past the agent in front of her to Cullen and she moved out into the main living area in the suite. "Good evening, sir. Do you have news?" she asked hopefully, trying keep the emotion in her voice to a minimum.

Cullen shook his head and motioned her to sit in the small chair opposite him. The other agents made themselves scarce to give them some privacy. "No, Dr. Brennan, not much new really. We're still about six hours behind him as far as we can tell."

The team had made some progress on tracking Lockton, but he always seemed to be one step ahead of them. As soon as they had tracked him to one location, they found he'd already picked up and moved on. It was amazing how he could manage to keep them at bay, almost as if he knew they were closing in and was able to get out just in the nick of time. Based on the items he'd left behind at various locations, he was aware of Brennan's "accident," but did not appear to suspect the sting.

Brennan dropped into the chair, glaring at Cullen. "If you don't have any new information, what are you doing here?" she asked, unable to bother with maintaining any pretense of civility.

"I'm here to let you know we've decided to go ahead and allow the funeral to take place on Sunday. We're just not getting close enough to Lockton and the evidence is drying up. We don't have any new leads, so we're going to have to try to lure him out." Cullen paused, letting her take in the news. "I'm sorry this has taken so long, Dr. Brennan. I know this must be difficult for you," he said gently. "But we'll pick him up at the funeral on Sunday and this will be over."

She shook her head and stood quickly. "You can't guarantee he'll appear at the funeral," she said angrily, waving a dismissive hand in his direction. "You can't guarantee anything. Sunday could come and go and he's still out there. You have no real ideas on how to catch him at all, do you?" Her voice rose steadily as she spoke until she was nearly shouting.

Cullen raised an eyebrow and stood to meet her face to face. He spoke quietly and evenly in sharp contrast to her anger. "No, Dr. Brennan, I can't guarantee anything. However, given the information currently available to us, this is the best course of action. If we receive better information, we'll make the appropriate changes. Further, we're keeping the plans for the funeral under even tighter wraps than our previous plans to ensure there are no gaps, no leaks, no mistakes." He reached out to gently squeeze her arm. "I promise you, we will find him and end this."

Brennan shrugged away from his grasp and stepped away. Her gaze on the floor, she murmured, "Fine. Thank you for coming." She turned and strode back to her bedroom without a backwards glance.

Cullen sighed heavily, running his hand over his head. Obviously he'd been dismissed, he thought to himself with a bit of a chuckle. He understood what she was feeling, so he wasn't bothered by her anger or dismissive behavior. This was a difficult situation for everyone, particularly her and Booth. He just hoped he could keep the promise he made her before the whole thing went to hell.

~~BB~~

The clock showed 2:37AM when Brennan looked at it for the millionth time that night. She rolled over to her other side, putting her back to the clock. It felt like it was taunting her, even though clocks were inanimate objects and incapable of such things. She'd been unable to sleep for more than an hour or two at time for the last several days of her incarceration. When she did sleep, she often had nightmares, the most frequent of which involved Booth walking away from her as he told her he couldn't trust her anymore.

She flopped onto her back with a long sigh. It was still two more days until the funeral. Still two more days of this waking nightmare. And that, of course, assumed they actually caught him on Sunday. If not, who knew how much longer this might go on?

Sitting up, she punched the pillow into another shape and dropped down on her stomach, eyes back on the clock. She wondered what Booth was doing right now. Was he sleeping soundly? Or was he awake and staring at the clock? Did he have nightmares too? Cam had reported that she'd had lunch with him the previous day and he didn't really look much better than he had originally. Cam could see he was drinking too much and eating too little, but he'd refused to discuss the situation with her. Now there was going to be a funeral.

Brennan sat up and propped her pillow behind her back. She was afraid of what the funeral would mean. Somehow it seemed so final, even though she wasn't really dead. What if Booth went to the funeral and it provided some kind of closure for him? She didn't see the need for funerals, personally, but Booth had assured her it was a valuable part of the grieving process; it helped people move on. She slapped her hands on the bedsheets in frustration. These "what ifs" were totally irrational and unproductive, but her brain simply wouldn't shut off.

Suddenly, she jumped up from the bed. There was only one real way to put an end to this and it didn't have anything to do with putting Lockton behind bars.

~~BB~~

It was nearly 3:30 in the morning when she reached Booth's apartment and let herself in quietly. She'd told the agents she was going to the hotel gym, something she'd started doing often in the middle of the night when she couldn't sleep. They'd not batted an eye as she left the room dressed in a black yoga outfit, black cap on her head, her hair tucked up inside. She'd been very careful to keep to the shadows as she'd left the hotel and walked several blocks before hailing a cab. The cab had let her out a few blocks from Booth's apartment building and she'd carefully approached from the back. He'd shown her what he'd called "the secret bat route" into the building one day, although she had no idea what bats had to do with anything. One rarely saw bats in DC anyway and why Booth would want them in his building was simply beyond her.

She paused for a moment as she shut the door behind her, allowing her eyes to adjust to the dim light in the room. She looked first to the sofa, to see if Booth had fallen asleep there, but didn't see his body outlined there. She started to make her way carefully toward his bedroom when a sound startled her.

Freezing partway across the room, she waited to see if the sound would come again. Yes, there it was again and it appeared to be coming from Booth's bedroom. Brennan began moving again, slowly and carefully, listening intently, trying to determine the source of the noise she was hearing. When she reached his bedroom door, she put her ear up to the door, waiting to hear the sounds again.

She silently unlatched the bedroom door and pushed it open slightly. Booth was laying on his back on the bed, the sheets twisted around him. She took in his bare torso and legs where they emerged from the tangled linens. She tried to dismiss the warm feeling filling her as she stared at him. She'd missed him so much, she thought, sighing lightly. She stood for a moment, wanting simply to watch him sleep, when he startled her by calling her name.

"Bones, Bones, wait!" he said, reaching a hand out. Brennan jumped, thinking at first he'd seen her, but realizing quickly he was dreaming.

"Bones, no, please," he mumbled, his head twisting back and forth on the pillow. His hand stretched out again, reaching for something apparently beyond his grasp. "No, Bones, don't go, don't leave me." His breath caught, almost a sob as his arms and legs further twisted the sheets. "Please, you can't leave me here alone, don't..."

Tears welled in Brennan's eyes as she understood he was dreaming about her, about her death. Her heart squeezed in her chest and she took the last few steps to the edge of the bed. If she hadn't been sure that coming here was the right idea before, she was certainly convinced now. She reached out, touching his shoulder lightly, calling his name as she did. "Booth, Booth, wake up."

Booth continued to writhe against the sheets, still caught up in the nightmare. She tried again. "Booth, wake up, please," she called softly as she shook his shoulder more forcefully.

Suddenly, Booth shot straight up in the bed, nearly knocking her backwards. His eyes met hers and focused on them, confusion crossing his face as he tried to understand what was happening.

"Booth," she murmured, "are you awake?"

He continued to stare at her for several more seconds before finally whispering, "Bones? Bones, is that really you?" He shook his head and blinked his eyes a few times, clearly trying to discern if she was real or a part of his imagination. "I...is it...Bones?"

She smiled at him tearfully and nodded slightly. "Yes, Booth, it's me. I'm really here." She paused, unsure how to explain her presence. She stepped a little closer to the bed, involuntarily reaching her hand out to him. Now that she was here, she was unable to stay away from him any longer.

Before she could get her hand completely extended or even blink, Booth had reached out, grabbed her hand and pulled her down onto his lap. His arms tightened around her so forcefully she could barely breathe, but she found she didn't really care. She wrapped her arms around his waist and relaxed fully into his embrace.

Booth buried his face in her shoulder, catching the scent of her shampoo as he breathed in deeply. It seemed as if it was the first real breath he'd had in days. His hand ran up and down her back as he pulled her even closer, afraid she might slip away and he'd wake up after all. He pressed his lips against the soft skin of her neck, drawing in a shuddering breath as tears welled in his eyes. She felt so real, so perfect there in his arms, he couldn't even begin to muster a coherent thought to ask her how it was possible. He honestly didn't care, it didn't matter, all that mattered now was right there in his arms.

No words were needed now. Relief, sorrow, love, pain, anger, joy...all mingled together in the sweetness of the reunion. There was only the sound of soft breaths, the whisper of tears down pale cheeks, the brush of hands against skin as they rediscovered each other and reveled in the joy of simply being in the other's presence.

It could have been a minute later or an hour, neither was really sure, but Booth finally pulled away, gazing into her blue eyes, still shining with unshed tears and broke the silence.

"Bones," he whispered, stroking her face with his hand, whisking away a few tears with his thumb. "What happened?"


A/N: Ahh, reunions are sweet aren't they? Thanks for the title of this chapter goes to Nedra1212...she messaged me with a suggestion to use this as the title for a chapter in which rash, irrational decisions are made and it fit just perfectly with where we were headed. It won't be a painful rash though... Thanks much! :) Next chapter will be up over the weekend...don't expect the moonlight and roses to last, we still have some tough discussions to get through. Please stick with me, there's still some interesting ground to cover here!