From the Previous Chapter:

OmyGod I think theyjussst hit me in the chest with a – a Tas-sser. Oh my God, what-arethey doin to-me? I'm I'm falling . . . but I can't stop myself - I can't . . . I can'tssstopp ss-shhaking!" inside the hotel suite Booth's own body started to physically jerk uncontrollably on top of the plush bed.

"Ohmygosh! Sweets, help him! He is having some kind of seizure!" Brennan cried, reaching out to try and hold the flailing man down.

Mistaken Identity

Chapter 10

"No! Booth?!!" Brennan shouted, trying to hold him down, unsure what she could do to help him.

"It'snota seizureDr. Brennan." Sweets explained speaking so fast she could barely decipher his words. "Agent Booth listen to me - you are not feeling the affects of the Taser any more. Do you understand what I am saying?" he knew that Booth's traumatized mind had taken him, body and soul, back to the very same feelings he had when the Taser first sent electricity soaring though his body.

The body itself has a unique memory of it's own, recalling physical injuries and trauma, and this was no exception. A perfect example would be when someone's arm has been amputated yet they can still experience the sensation of itching or pain in a hand that is no longer there.

Booth instantly relaxed, his limbs no longer jerking and his demeanor took a 180 degree turn and went back to the calm state that he had been in when they had first begun the session. Brennan finally inhaled, filling her lungs with much needed oxygen having unknowingly held her breath since the first moment Booth's movements started becoming erratic.

"Agent Booth are you feeling up to continuing or would you prefer to end here?" Sweets asked, feeling confident that any danger had passed.

"I'm fine." was the curt answer Booth gave, almost as though nothing had just happened.

"Okay good. So if you are ready to continue then I want you to think back to that same evening. You are still in your apartment, only now you are laying on the floor just after you had fallen to the ground."

Booth swallowed hard, trying to stay composed, struggling as he tried to remember – only to resume speaking less than one minute later, "They had removed the Taser wires from my chest but I still felt unsteady, weak. While I fought to get my bearings and try to weigh my options for escape, I heard them talking."

"What exactly did you hear Agent Booth? Can you also describe their voices for me?"

"I heard a woman's voice . . . she was yelling at someone but still in more of a whispered tone. She said something like, you idiot, he's still conscious, she seemed stressed by that. That's when the man hit me – hard across my face, my head slammed back against my hardwood floor and it almost knocked me out, I think he pistol whipped me. I let them think that it did knock me out just so I could try to figure out my game plan. Gotta have a game plan." Booth said, obviously switching back into his serious investigator mode.

"Then I heard the male voice next and – he said something like - "Why the hell don't you just let us kill him right here, right now? You plan to kill him anyway once you get the ransom," I can hear the nervousness in their voices.

Booth continued to repeat everything he had heard that night. . . "I was still trying to get my bearings - I was still so weakened from the convulsing that my body had just gone through, and my head was throbbing."

"I, uh, I remember trying so hard to get up, I knew that I had to find a way to take back control. Control of my body . . . and of my home."

"But I could tell they had planned this whole thing out to the letter. Before I had shaken off the daze from being tazed, both of them had worked quickly, tying my hands together and they also had bound my, my feet. I don't like this. I knew I wasn't going to be able to run or to fight. That's when I then heard the female say something, but it's in bits and pieces since I was still a little out of it from the head slam. She said something like "Give-im the drugs already'' and then angrily reprimanded him saying something about him waiting an engraved invitation – or something like that." I remember trying to open my eyes and hoping they wouldn't notice but then . . ."

Booth suddenly stopped talking for a few long seconds as he then suddenly reached his right hand up off the hotel mattress and grabbed at his left arm - "Ouch! Oh no. Someone just stuck me with something. Uh-oh, my whole arm feels like it's on fire!" he said, rubbing his arm from shoulder to wrist.

Booth's face had started to develop a fine sheen of sweat, he wore a look of fear like nothing Brennan had never seen on his face before. Booth never seemed afraid of anything. Well, other than Clowns - she thought.

"Sweets are you sure he is okay? Are you sure this won't cause him more harm?" she asked. It broke her heart to just sit by and watch as Booth recalled something that most victim's would never have the guts, or the desire to ever want to remember!

"Shhhh, Dr. Brennan he is fine. You can be damn sure that I will stop this before it gets too far." he whispered reassuringly. Their attention was once again pulled back to Booth's rendition of the events that night.

"Uh-oh, I feel reeaally . . . dizzy. I , I don't feel so hot." he complained about the nausea that had come over him that night just after the drugs to knock him out were injected into his arm.

"Agent Booth, I want you to take some deep cleansing breaths, you are not in pain right now, you are not sick anymore. Okay? I just need you to tell me if you heard any more conversation before you . . . fell asleep." Sweets avoided mentioning anything about Booth falling into unconsciousness from the drugs. He needed to keep Booth's mind off the worst part of that evenings events. He knew the top Special Agent would have struggled more over losing control of the situation, than over any physical pain he had suffered.

Booth continued but his words were slurring more and more since he was feeling exactly as he had that night, after the drugs began to slowly take over his bodily functions and motor skills. "Ok-yy. Ysss ss-I cnstill-hear-em. Bt-now they sound veerrry far aw-aaay. Sssounds like someone put cottton in my eearrrs. I heard a thi-irrrd male – his voice is morehigh pitched n nasal-ly. Hesssaid they would have to draag me t' the win-dow n get me out that way. Sssayin smthing about an ole-lady he spotted peekin' out into the hallwy jst bfore they went to my door. That ws probly Msss Bel-lows, sheez my gal – myy neeiighbor."

Brennan was now writing at a faster pace as Booth started giving more descriptive information. It's pained her to think back to what he had gone through, the fear and uncertainty he had felt not knowing if he would ever wake up once he did finally succumb to the effects of the drugs.

"Then-the sssame-mman . . said he wsss gonnna bring their v'hicle round to the sss-side tht the window wsss on . . .uhhh, I'm reallllyy gettin sleepyyy now. I – I thinkmgonna . . . passsss ou-"

"Agent Booth wait. Hang on for one more minute. I need you to just stay awake for just a little while longer. Okay? Do not pass out or go to sleep – Agent Booth? Can you still hear me?"

Booth nodded his head in agreement, his movements were sluggish as though he were actually drugged right now.

Now it was Sweet's turn to feel concerned because if he had let Booth succumb to the urge to pass out, that could have had some serious ramification even in some cases, causing patients to go into a coma for hours or even days, as their subconscious mind convinces the body to believe that it was indeed drugged. As crazy as that sounded, Sweets had read medical journals of such cases.

Sweets informed Brennan that he was going to start the process to bring Booth out of the hypnosis, informing her that Booth could very well continue to remember more pieces of information of that event as the days wore on.

Brennan tightened her grip on Booth's hand in preparation, her pen and paper had been quickly discarded.

"Now, Agent Booth, I am going to touch you on the forehead now and I want you to relax and slowly awaken. You won't remember any of the pain or trauma you just went through. You will only recall details such as any names or details about the voices you had heard. You will continue to remember any information that will help you figure out who your captors were. Okay? Do you understand this Booth?" Sweets asked, wanting to end this as soon as possible.

"Yesss." came the quiet reply.

"Okay good." Sweets reached out and lightly tapped Booth's forehead and whispered to him that it was okay to wake up now. Booth's face muscles had completely relaxed, his eyes slowly opened. Then after blinking a couple of times to get his bearings, his eyes were then immediately drawn to Brennan's, he looked up at her, not noticing the concern that was reflected in her eyes. He smiled his most charming smile, "Hey." he muttered.

"Hey back." Brennan replied. "Are you okay? Can I get you anything? Some water perhaps?" she asked him, still bothered at the knowledge she now had in regard to what he had gone through. Knowing that it was only a glimpse into the nightmare of his captivity, knowing that if the first 10-15 minutes of his kidnapping were that traumatic, then the following 24 plus hours, could only have been worse.

"Yeah, water would be good." he decided. As she quickly hopped off the bed to get him a glass of the cool refreshing liquid, Booth suddenly bolted up into a seated position on the bed. "Wait! I remember!" he shouted, startling Sweets to the point that he nearly fell from the chair he was seated on.

"What Agent Booth? What is it, what do you remember?" Sweets asked, not sure whether to be concerned or pleased. Brennan stopped in her tracks upon hearing Booth's sudden outburst – turning and running back to his side.

"A name." Booth said, not looking directly at anyone but staring directly ahead as if thinking deeply.

He then turned his head and looked at them, his eyes darting from Sweets to Brennan, "I remember a name." he said.

TBC

Sorry for all of the cliff hangers! I can't seem to stop myself. :-)