Red Bones, Red Bones- Chapter 3
The sound of a small infant crying made her head snap up from the book she had been buried in. Her small infant. That always made her smile, even if it was irrational, even if it was illogical. She had a child. Cool. She would raise said child. Nice. She had created, carried and given birth to said small child.
Amazing.
That thought, the fact that there was someone who would look up to her, someone who would love her unconditionally, someone who she had created with the man she was in love with.
Fantastic.
Illogical.
Irrational.
But it still made her squirm with delight; it still made her smile; it still made her feel like a candle had been lit in the bottom of her metaphorical human heart.
Illogical.
Irrational.
The best thing that had ever happened to her.
"I've got it," a masculine voice spoke from behind her, in the kitchen of the house she had bought; the house she had bought with the man she loved; the house she had bought with the man she loved who was the father of her child. The same child who now (by the sounds of it) needed a change of nappies.
Supercalifragilisticexpialid ocious.
Illogical.
Irrational.
She chuckled inwardly. It was illogical; it was irrational. It was illogical that a small child should make her feel his way. It was irrational that she should have actually thought supercalifragilisticexpialid ocious- is that even a word?
And then there was her partner. Her partner in love, in war, in crime, in pain, in passion- in bed…
The man she loved. The man she would spend the rest of her life with. The man who she thought about every second of every day. The man who would wake up next to her, and fall asleep in the exact same place on the exact same bed every single day, until death do them part.
Booth.
And that, in itself, was irrational. It was illogical. The human race was not meant to tie themselves down to one person, or to another. Science and sociology tell us that we are meant to have multiple partners; with whom we share multiple children. It is all to do with the survival of the race.
But none of that mattered.
None of that mattered, because of Booth.
They weren't a part of an aboriginal tribe. They weren't ancient figures living in an ancient world. They were here, and they are now. They live in a world where to tie oneself down to one person is completely normal- expected even. Where to have multiple children, to have multiple children with multiple men is to be a player, or a slut.
And that was illogical.
And that was irrational.
But, as Booth so frequently said, there was no way of explaining the entire world with science. Well, there was, but there would never be one that the entire world would be happy with. They would keep on questioning things- and Brennan loved that. She loved finding answers, seeking the truth.
And that was logical.
And that was rational.
Everything she did, everything she thought, was supposed to be rational, logical. She was Doctor Brennan, she was the most rational person that she had ever met. She was Doctor Temperance Brennan, the best Forensic Anthropologist in the world. She had to be logical. She had to be rational.
But she wasn't. As she sat there, in her own home, she questioned things that had been explained by science. She had fallen in love with things that were not rational. She had tied herself down to one man. She was letting her emotions back in, after she had fought so hard to destroy any feeling she had ever had. The hurt, the pain, the anger, the love, they would only bring her grief. But to do so.. To do so meant to shut out the happiness, the joy, the love, the world. And after a rational, and a logical debate in her mind, she had decided what was best. She had shut them out. And now she was letting them back in. She was falling in love.
She had fallen in love.
It was irrational.
It was illogical.
It was Booth.
It was the man she would spend the rest of her life with.
It was the man she would love forever, and always.
It was the life she would lead, for now and forever.
It was Booth.
"Bones.." The love of her existence asked from behind her. "Are you okay there…"
"Huh?" She snapped up out of the daydream that was inhabiting her mind.
"Thought I lost you for a moment there, Bones." He laughed and placed the small child, her small child, their small child, in the play- pen that had cost them a considerable $799.99. Well.. Considerable meant different things to the two adults. One saw considerable as a being a large sum of money. The other was less concerned about finances, and saw considerable as being.. Well.. The other didn't really.. The other didn't really understand the term "over-kill".
"I.. I just can't get that man out of my head. Jane. I keep thinking about him.." Brennan began, as Booth gave her a strange look. "NO! Not in a sexual way! I would never even consider a sexual relationship with him! He's to.. Damaged… I mean, I can't stop thinking about what he does. Me and you, we've dedicated our lives to catching killers, solving murders, finding the truth, but he.. HE plans on killing. He doesn't care about the truth… He just wants to kill, and yet, his superiour agents let him continue working with the force? isn't that like giving a killer a gun and telling him that the authorities would turn a blind eye? Isn't it.. isn't it wrong? I mean.. In many primal tribes-"
"Bones, we're not in a primal tribe. We're not in a world like that. And in a way.. I suppose having him in such close quarters is better than having him parading the streets on his own. It's lie a form of surveillance- he can't cause to much damage if the authorities are always looking over his shoulders, can he? And.. Bones if.." He took a deep breath.
"What?" She asked, uncertain of herself.
"If someone did that.. To you and Christine.. I.."
"No! Booth- you couldn't! I mean you could move on! You're a good looking male, with a wonderful little boy.. If me and Christine.. If something were to happen to us, I would want.. We would want.."
"But I wouldn't, Bones. That's what you don't get. I love you. I. Love. You. I will never love another woman as much as I love you. Moving on.. I wouldn't want that. I wouldn't want to betray you like that. You, Doctor Temperance Brennan, are the love of my life."
His speech brought tears to her eyes, as had been done on so many occasions before now. When the case about the victim of 9/11 victim who had been stuck in Bone Storage (or Limbo, as Angela liked to call it) had come up, when the14 year old, Collin was.. Killed. When the hormones of pregnancy had taken over and she had cried on the field. These meant nothing to her. These.. These were tears of sadness.
They were illogical.
They were irrational.
These tears.. These tears that she felt now were tears of love. Her love for him. Her unconditional, irrational, illogical love for him; for the small infant they had brought into the world. And she buried herself in him. Both physically, metaphorically and emotionally. He was her metaphorical rock. He was her soul. Her heart would be safe, as long as she was with him. He would protect her, he would protect Christine. And she would protect him. She would love him. She would be completely and totally faithful to him.
It was illogical.
It was irrational.
It was Booth.
It was her Booth.
It was the man she would love, every day, of forever.
Booth.
XXX
Lisbon wandered through the desolate streets of DC. She just walked, and walked, and walked until her legs hurt.
And she carried on walking.
She carried on walking.
And she carried on walking.
She carried on walking until she had no idea where she was. She carried on walking until she had mentally kicked herself- mentally killed herself- enough times to get all of the lust she had built up, all of the desire she felt at the pit of her stomach, as close to naught as possible.
So she kept walking.
Because they would never be gone. She would always love him. And she knew that. She knew that he was off limits, she knew that he would never look at her, never feel for her, how she felt for him.
So she kept walking.
Damn her. Damned her for falling in love with the one man who could never love her back. The one man who had promised his soul to another…
The man who she had to face, every day.
The man who she had to watch die a little more each day.
So she kept walking.
And she kept walking.
And she kept walking.
XXX
"Has anyone seen Lisbon?" Jane asked, as he sat down on the largest sofa of the inside balcony-thingy the Jeffersonion had, graciously accepting the cup of tea Rigsby put in front of him.
"Nope." They replied in union.
"Does anyone know where Lisbon is…"
"Jane, she's a big girl, she can take care of herself. She probably just overslept." Cho replied easily, looking up to see a well-rested Doctor Brennan walking towards them.
"Where's Agent Lisbon? I had a few questions for her…" She looked around, a look of disappointment on her face. "Did she at least talk to you about the exhumation order?" She asked, emotionlessly. A look of pain and grief flew across Jane's face.
"Yes. She did. And I.. if you have to.. But I.. I would rather you.. Well .. didn't.." He looked down sheepishly.
"Okay then. Well maybe my detailed examinations will change your mind. If you would like to attend said examinations, please be at the bone room in 20 minutes, that's when we will start." SHe nodded as she turned curtly towards the door.
"Lisbon.. She want's you to have your.. Your family exhumed?" A look of outrage passed across Van Pelt's face. "If these scientists cant solve the case with what they've got than we may as well go back to California. This is pointless! I mean, that woman doesn't know about loss! She is the most detached human being I've ever met!" Grace continued to ramble as Jane stood up, making his way to the bone room. "Jane?"
"You may be right, Grace. But I need to hear her out. If you don't follow me down there, maybe you should think about trying to get into contact with Lisbon." And he walked away.
Just like that.
Just like he did when he left for Vegas.
Just like he would do when Red John was dead.
Because that was who he was; that was who he was raised to be. He didn't get tied down. He didn't get attached- he tried that once, and look where it had gotten him. A house was just a house. A person was just a person. A job was just a job. Sex was just sex. He came, he sought, and he left. That was Patrick Jane. That was what he had always, and would always be.
"He doesn't get it." She said, as soon as he was out of earshot.
"No he doesn't." Cho said.
"He's the observant one! How does he not see how insanely in love with him she is!" She practically shouted.
"He Didn't see her when he left. We didn't even know before then. After though, after everything that happened to her, we saw. Give him some credit Van Pelt. She is a much better liar than he gives her credit for." Rigsby spoke up.
"He can't see what he has, because he's too busy avenging the things he's lost." She shook her head.
"There's something poetic about it all- isn't there?" Cho muttered to himself.
"Yeah, poetic and sadistic."
"We need to be at that detailed examination. As much as he is a idiot for not her love, he deserves some help through this. It was his family, after all." Rigsby said again, shuddering at the thought of someone hurting Van Pelt or Ben.
"Yeah.."
XXX
Red John.
He had done this.
HE had done this to these little girls.
To his little girl.
To little girls everywhere.
To his wife.
To the woman he loved.
The only woman… No.
The woman he had promised his soul to.
Had. Past tense.
No. Present. He loved her. He had always, and will always love Angela. Noone else..
Because of Red John, he had noone else.
Red John.
Blood.
Smiley face.
Three fingers.
Clockwise.
Latex kitchen glove.
Blood.
Red John.
His wife.
His little girl.
His life.
Everything. Because of one interview.
Red John.
Smiley face.
Three fingers.
Blood.
Red John.
Red John.
Red John.
XXX
Throughout Doctor Brennan's description of the findings, Jane sat. Unresponsive. Uncaring. Unemotional. He had already made up his mind.
Red John had to die.
He had to.
He had to go.
That was it.
And there was only one way to do that.
So there he sat.
Unresposive.
Uncaring.
Unemotional.
Jane.
He was Jane. He was a Jane. He was an uncaring Jane who would end up a drunken alcoholic with no memories of the good times. He would end up in the crappy part of the carnival, he would end up dead.
They all would.
But he would die first. Because it was what he wanted.
He wanted to die.
He was sick of it. He was sick of life. He was sick of the horror, and of the pain. He was sick of the isolation he had created for himself, he was sick of the way Lisbon looked at him. She was in love. He knew that. Yet she couldn't have him. The man she loved. All because of that damned ring.
He knew that.
And he still wanted to die.
It's best for her, he convinced himself. I'm a Jane. You love me, you die. You love me too much, you are kept alive. Kept alive until my paranoia takes over and makes e push you away for your own protection.
And that's when he strikes.
When I push you away.
Because I love you.
Because I've always loved you.
But I love her.
It will always be her.
No.
It will always be Red John.
It will be Red John until the day I kill him.
The day I torture him.
The day I make him pay-
"I'm sorry I'm late.. I got… Caught up.." Lisbon looked down at herself. She was barely presentable. He still wore the same clothes as she had the day before. Although she had showered, she hadn't bothered to change. Her feet were sore, and blister ridden, causing a kind of limp, and her weight to be distributed unevenly. Her hair was in a loose bun, out of her face. Her skin was flushed, and without any makeup. Fortunately, she normally wore so little that the change was unnoticeable to everyone.
Everyone except Jane.
She was a mess. They all knew that. But it was Jane's turn to see. To see what he had done to her. And it hurt him. Like a million knives ripping through each of his lungs, making each breath harder and harder. Then his windpipe was hit. It was diced up, as if he was the target on "fruit ninja". And it killed him.
It killed him to see her like that.
But there he sat.
There he sat, unresponsive.
There he sat, emotionless.
There he sat.
Jane.
Born a Jane, died a Jane.
Died because of her.
"Doctor Brennan?" A small boy with a weak frame asked as he walked in.
"Ah, Mr Fisher. You are here to assist with the detailed examination of the remains, I presume?" She questioned, as she snapped the latex gloves on.
"Yes.."
"What! You cant have an intern working on a case like this!" Van Pelt burst out.
"I assure you, only the best and most qualifies of my many interns will be working on this case. I find that as they are in such desperate need of the jobs we offer, they work almost as hard as I do. That puts them about level with Hodgens on the how-hard-do-we-work scale. Which is pretty impressive. Now, I see no reason to take them off of the case, so I wont do so, until cause arrives. They, too, are good on the stands, with the right lead. Remember this- when we catch him, which we will, if you put us on the stand, we will get you a conviction. Because we seek the truth beyond reasonable doubt." She concluded as she began to look through the bones, assisted by the young boy.
"Van Pelt." Lisbon shot her agent a sharp look, causing her head to bow.
"There is a lot we can take from this. A lot o particulates have been left over the bones. This-" she gestured to the bones, "-is only the beginning. If he had made mistakes like this on all of the remains…"
"We will catch him." Cam finished for her, walking into the room. "There are just as many of there on the other victims remains. He has made so many mistakes. Soo many, its unbelievable. Of course, if we can get a hold of other victims, we an conclude beyond the reasonable doubt conclusions we have been able to draw up now."
"What ae you saying, doctor?" Lisbon asked, walking to the table.
"I'm saying that at the moment, we can catch you your killer if you give us complete access to the case. We can get you to a court. We can go on the stands, and we can get you maybe second or third degree for these two girls. If we get the other Red John victims, we can get you first degree on 40 accounts of unprovoked homicide. The decision is up to you." They looked towards Jane, who now sat, too deep in his memory palace to even flinch as they set their gaze apon him once more. He swallowed. He nodded, tears filling his eyes.
"Jane?" Lisbon asked, his head snappping up.
"Do it. Exhume them- all of them. Even Charl… Even my family. Do whatever it takes." He curtly walked out of the room, Lisbon closely at his heel.
"Jane?" She asked, as they entered the frost of mid-March weather in DC.
"Yes, Lisbon." He still didn't meet her eyes.
"Are yo.."
"Am I okay? No. I'm not. I'm not okay. I've just signed an order to have my wife and daughter along with 36 other people exhumed, and the woman I'm pretty sure im in love with wont even talk to me.."
"Jane.. Lorelei is dead. She wont ever talk to you. Erica is married and-"
"NO! Cant you see! I love you! I've always loved you! It's been you! Its been you ive been hunting red John for! So we can have a life!"
And he kissed her.
He put his lips against hers, eager to see if she would respond.
Hoping she would respond.
And she did.
Her smooth lips moved against his, his tounge seeking entery to her mouth. And she accepted it. She was gratefull for it. One hand slid to his chest, whilst the other continued where ithad left of the night before, playing with his curls.
"No.." She said, pulling away. "I.. We.. Red John.."She looked at him, sorrow, love and lust drowning her eyes.
So he let her go.
He walked away.
And he didn't look back.
He didn't look back to see tears streaming own her face.
He didn't.
He couldn't.
Just like he had done before.
Just like he would do again.
Because of Red John.
Red John.
Smiley face.
Three fingers.
Clockwise.
Blood.
Red John.
He would kill him.
He would torture him.
For her.
Because he loved her.
He loved Teresa.
Because of Red John.
Because of his Angela.
Because of Charlotte.
Because of Red John.
Red John.
Red John.
A/N- This is the longest one I've written (I think!). I've surprised myself with this one! My exams tomorrow morning were canclled, so I had about 3 hours worth of revision time to fill with some other mindless activity.. Just Kidding! My brother came home from uni today, and with my exam cancelled, my parents left me alone for the entire night, and I guess I just got to writing! I spent more time on Brennan today, trying to get her more into character :D :D xx Reviews on how I did?