The Bells, Rated T

Hmm I figured I would post some of my things here because I want to get me posts numbers up... and y'all get to enjoy my writing... ha...

Okay, this is the first part of a four part series. This is a series based around the poem by Edgar Allen Poe, “The Bells.” It’s one of my favorites and is filled with a lot of onamonapia (I don’t know how to spell that and Word doesn’t recognize it). It’s kind of just like a background tone to the story.

I.

“Bren, Sweetie, it’s straight,” said Angela for the fifth time in the past two minutes.

“Are you sure? It looks a little crooked.” She stood in front of the mirror, tilting her head and stepping forward and back trying to assess the situation.

Angela stepped before her best friend and placed her hands on her arms. “Bren, Sweetie. Wow, I’m not going to be able to call you that soon.” She shook her head. “Look everything is set up perfectly. It’s going to be a great wedding. Your dress is beautiful. Your veil is straight and Booth looks hot. Just take a deep breath and enjoy your day.”

Brennan smiled and returned. “Okay, thanks Ange.”

“No problem.” She gave her a kiss on the cheek and left the room.

Brennan looked back at her reflection, looking at her self. She noticed the smile and realized that was it was the first true smile she had on in a long time. It was starting to enjoy it.

She sat on the ottoman while she waited for the signal. Her thoughts were on him and their relationship over the past year. She remembered the day that changed their lives forever…

…

It was the hottest day that summer and most sane people were inside in the safety of air conditioning. Brennan sat in her office stripped down to the very thin tank top and a pair of capris that showed off the toned calves. Beside her sat a cool Slurpee that was quickly melting despite being in the coolness of the lab.

She was reading an article written by an anthropologist at Harvard when there was a sudden alarm from the platform. Brennan immediately got up and like everyone else, went to see what the ruckus was. There, standing in only a pair of shiny red shorts and his running shoes was Special Agent Seeley Booth. Sweat dripped down his body and his hair was matted down from it.

“Booth, what the hell are you doing?”

“Bones! I need to talk to you,” he said in between deep labored breaths.

“Okay, where’s your card?”

“I left it at home. I was out jogging and I thought about something and I really, really wanted to tell you.”

Brennan shook her head and walked up on the platform. She grabbed his wrist and looked at a clock as she counted his heartbeats. “Bones, don’t you want to know what I wanted to tell you?”

“Booth your heart rate is too high.” Still holding his wrist she dragged him to her office and made him sit on the couch despite his protests that he was sweaty. Immediately she handed him a bottle of water and turned her desk fan towards him. He downed the bottle of water in one sip and Brennan handed him another.

“You’re an idiot for going running outside when it’s over a hundred degrees out.”

“Yes but I really needed to tell you something. And if I ran back home, showered and then drove over here, I wouldn’t have the adrenaline to say what I came here to say.”

“Yeah, and what’s that?” she asked as she looked over him again. His hand came up to cup her face and his features seemed to tone down.

“I want you and me to go out on a date together. No work, no cell phones, nothing. Just us together for one night.”

She looked at him for a moment. “Why? What else would we have to talk about other than work?”

“Our lives. What we hoped for as children and how it compares to now. The weather maybe. Or even the nasty sunburn that I’m going to have tomorrow.”

She laughed. “Where is your shirt?”

“I started with one, but threw it off somewhere down the street because it was soaking up the sweat and slowing me down.”

“Hmm thanks for the lovely picture.”

He smiled. “You’re welcome. So what do you say? Dinner tomorrow?”

She thought about it for a moment and figured that it couldn’t hurt too much. “I guess so.” Booth just smiled.

“Great, now do you think that I can get another bottle of water and the keys to your car. I really need to shower…”

…

Brennan laughed as she recalled how he asked her out. Little did she know was that Booth was right, that they did have a lot to talk about that didn’t have to do with work. Now two years later, they were ready to get married, in a church, with over a hundred people watching. Angela and Booth’s mother turned out to be really great wedding planners and helped plan everything that had to do with the wedding, taking another weight off her shoulder. Just then, Parker appeared at the door.

“You look pretty Tempe,” he said as she stood.

“Thank you Parker. You look mighty handsome today.”

“Thank you. Your daddy sent me here to tell you that we’re ready for you.”

…

The reception hall was hot, filled with many dancing bodies fueled by alcohol. Brennan had danced more in the past hours than she had in her entire life. It was nearing eleven o’clock and Brennan was getting tired. She headed outside, hoping to catch a breath of fresh air. She sat on ledge of the patio, staring towards the city.

The door opened behind her and she saw Booth come outside. His hands were in his pockets and he came over to sit next to Brennan.

“How are you doing?” he asked.

“A little tired,” she said, her eyes not leaving the view.

“It’s okay, once we get to honeymoon you can relax for a week straight. I won’t even wake you up to eat.”

“Aw thanks, I appreciate it.” His hand reached over to grip hers and he moved to stand behind her. With his arms securely around her and his chin on her shoulder, she felt like there was no better place to be.

In the distance, church bells rang and Brennan felt as content as she ever had in her entire life.

This is so incredibly sweet! Great job

PART II

The pain was the worst she ever felt. It was worse than when she broke her wrist after falling off the swing in the second grade and worse than the time her foster father had smacked her in the face after she came home late one night, and definitely worse than the time she got shot.

“Seeley!” shouted from the bed. She knew that he was downstairs watching the end of the Flyers game. She had gone to bed early; being eight months pregnant took a lot out of her.

Booth bounded up the stairs immediately to find Brennan on the bed clutching at her stomach. “Bones, what’s wrong?”

“I…it hurts,” were the only words she could manage. He turned on the light to see that the seats were stained red with blood.

“Oh shit.” Booth lifted her up and carried her carefully down the stairs and grabbed his car keys from the kitchen table before heading outside quickly and opening the door. He strapped her into the passenger side and ran around the other side meanwhile dialing the number for their doctor.

“Dr. Barnes, yeah Tempe is bleeding… no I’m driving her to the hospital now…yeah with the siren I can get her their faster… okay we’ll see you there.” Booth flipped on the siren and sped down the roads.

He reached across and put a hand on her forehead, brushing back the strands of hair from her face. “Honey, it’s going to be okay.”

Her face contorted into a smile. “Yeah I think so too.” Her head slumped against the window of the car.

“Bones!” Booth nudged her lightly. “Temperance, baby, come on. We’re almost there.”

They were at the hospital within minutes. Luckily their doctor was already there, for it was his night on duty in the hospital. He was waiting with a gurney outside just as Booth pulled up. Once she was lying down, they started to roll her inside.

“Sir, you can’t leave your vehicle here,” said one of the police officers standing there.

“I don’t care,” he threw over his shoulder before running inside the hospital. He followed the doctors down the hall towards the operating room. As they went in, Booth was stopped at the door by a short, blond nurse that was old enough to be his mother.

“Sir, you can’t go in there.”

Booth looked at her. “That’s my wife. She’s having my child!”

“Sir, I’m sorry, but you have to scrub in first.” She grabbed him by the arm and led him to the room where he quickly but carefully scrubbed up. She helped him dress in the scrubs and in minutes he was there.

He walked in just as the doctor was making the incision into her abdomen. He closed his eyes as he watched the scalpel make an imperfection on her beautiful smooth skin. The next moments flew past as the doctors worked quickly to get the baby out. Booth watched with tears brimming in his eyes as the baby was pulled from his wife. The child was small, much smaller than when Parker was born. The room then turned chaotic. The baby wasn’t crying. The machines hooked up to Brennan started beeping frantically. As the baby was pulled away, the doctors moved in with a defibrillator. Booth was rooted to the spot; his vision was cloudy. He could only hear the voices of the doctors over the machines as they tried to resuscitate the two things that would be the entire bedrock of his life. The man that had endured the torture of war, been shot multiple times, and dealt with a hard home as a kid couldn’t do anything about the situation. He felt lost and useless; the tears started rolling down his cheeks in rivers as a nurse started to push him out. He was resisting, wanting to be there for whatever was happening. He prayed to God for the lives of his loves, saying that if he must take Booth instead. The beeping of the machines calmed to a simple beep just as he was pushed from the room. The doubled doors swung shut just as the wailing of a baby filled the room. Booth didn’t know what happened, but deep inside he felt a sudden warm feeling of tranquility.

…

Brennan tried to open her eyes, but they were just too heavy. She could feel a dull throb in her abdomen area, but she was just too weak to care.

“It’s okay. Daddy and Mommy will take care of you. We painted your room a light pink. Not that you’ll care at first. But when you want it a different color I promise I’ll make it whatever you want.”

Brennan smiled as she listened to Booth talk to their child. She didn’t remember much after getting into the car. She had awoken earlier when the Jeffersonian crew had stopped by, but she was hardly coherent due to the pain medication. She opened her eyes to see that Booth had his back to her with the baby in his arms.

As if sensing that she was awake, he turned and had a big smile on his face. “Look, Mommy’s awake.” Brennan scooched over on the bed and Booth placed the baby in her arms before lying beside her. He kissed her forehead.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“I’m fine.” She absentmindedly rubbed the pink blanket that was wrapped around the baby. “Did you name her?”

“Of course not. We never really decided on something and I wasn’t going to overstep my boundaries.”

“Oh. Well what should we name her?”

“I was thinking Emily Christine.”

Brennan thought about it for a minute. “Emily Christine Booth. I like it.” Booth leaned down and kissed her on the lips.

“I love you Temperance.” He then kissed Emily on the cheek. “I love you Emily.”

Wow! That was so great! Keep going!!!!!!!

Aww, I like it!

It was adorable!!! Keep going!!

Part III

Silence was prominent in the household at night. The kid was sleeping, there were no electronics on, and the only sounds to break the silence were the occasional snores from Seeley Booth in the master bedroom. He grunted and rolled again when suddenly the wail of the alarm system screeched in the night.

Booth rolled out of bed with the sheet wrapped around his waist. He peeked up to see his wife sit up.

“Seeley, what the hell is that?” she asked fully alert.

“I don’t know,” replied nervously as he stood. He reached for the jeans beside him on the floor and quickly put them on. He reached in the nightstand and unlocked the box that held his gun. He kept it to his side in case it was a false alarm so that he didn’t frighten Emily. He turned back to his wife.

“Bones, don’t move until I check it out.” He knew full well that she would move anyway, but he felt like he should at least say it.

He moved slowly down the hallway, towards Emily’s room. She was the end of the hall and he could already see that he door was still ajar like he always left it after he said good night. However, a shadow cast in the living from the stove light in the kitchen caught his attention; it was too big to be his daughter. He felt Temperance behind him and whispered over to her.

“Check Emily’s room.” She nodded and moved slowly, trying not to make the floor creak.

Raising the gun, Booth proceeded down the stairs and towards the kitchen. He was about to round the corner when there was a gasp from the top of the stairs.

“Seeley, she’s gone, and the window’s open.” Booth’s body went into overdrive as he rounded the corner to find the kitchen empty, but the front door now wide open, letting the cold air into the home. He ran out to see a figure running down the street, holding a fighting child under his arm.

“Holy shit,” he said as he took pursuit. His feet, covered only in colorful striped socks painfully pounded the pavement, but he didn’t notice. The man made a left up onto another street and used something on a key chain to unlock a car. Booth sped up despite his lungs screaming for fresh air.

“Freeze!” he shouted into the night. The man turned and looked, his face hidden in the shadows. Emily looked directly at him and her eyes showed him everything; she was scared to death. Booth stopped in his tracks and raised his gun. He knew he had a clear sight to the man’s head, but he couldn’t pull the trigger god forbid it hit Emily.

“Put her down, drop the gun, and get down to the ground slowly,” commanded Booth.

The man just chuckled before firing at Booth. Emily screamed and Booth moved out of the way, but the bullet still hit him in his shooting arm. The car peeled away and Booth raised his arm to fire at the retreating truck, but couldn’t pull the trigger in case the bullet strayed. He watched as the car disappeared into the distance, until he could no longer see the red taillights of the car.

He was rooted to the spot; fear, confusion, and anger taking over him. He barely registered the sirens wailing in the background that were responding to the alarm going off, and Bones probably called the FBI as well. He vaguely felt an officer check him out and then call for the paramedics to look at him. He didn’t remember being put in the back of an ambulance and fending off the paramedics. He only remembered his wife sitting next to him in the back of the ambulance as he pulled her close.

“Cullen is here,” she stated with as calm a voice she could use. Though her voice was calm, her body was shaking. The man in question appeared in front of Booth.

Booth moved forward. “Sir, I was able to get the license plate of the car he took off in. Once I’m finished here we can run the plates.”

“Agent Booth, first off, you’re not on this case.” Booth nearly stood up in rage and was ready to shout at his boss before Cullen put up a palm to stop him. “Look, you are too close to the case and you have a temper. This will be dealt with the right way and taken care of with proper documentation.”

Booth processed what Cullen had said. Of course, that’s what they always said, pulling agents that are close off cases. But he knew that there was something that he had to do.

Booth took a deep breath, trying to keep his voice level and calm. “Sir, with all due respect I think that I should be on the…”

“No Booth,” said Cullen firmly. “You’re going to the hospital, getting a good night’s sleep, and letting a task force deal with it.”

Booth was now irate. “Sir, the first twenty-four hours are imperative.” Booth pulled his arm from the paramedic and then left the ambulance despite protests from Brennan, Cullen and the paramedic. He marched inside his home and returned minutes later, dressed in a dress shirt, slacks and a tie.

He unlocked his truck and turned to Cullen. “I’m going to my office to run the plates.”

He pulled out of the driveway and flipped on his siren, despite the fact that it was nearing three in the morning.

Brennan shook her head, her head a swarm of feelings. Cullen offered her his hand. “Come on,” he said. “I’ll bring you there.”

…

Brennan grabbed a few things from the house and got dressed before joining Cullen on the way to the Hoover building. They stopped at an all night coffee shop for something to eat and then entered the building. Brennan took a deep breath as they stepped off the elevator and headed towards Booth’s office.

He heard them coming and was watching their approach. Cullen gave Booth a nod. “I’m going to check some things in my office. I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Thank you Agent Cullen,” said Brennan. She placed the coffees on the desk and pushed them towards Booth. Booth regarded the object under her arm. His jaw moved side to side for a few, before he stood and faced the window with his hands on his hips.

Brennan stood and absentmindedly stroked the stuffed gray elephant, waiting for her husband to say something. Instead she noticed that his body was shaking and that he started sobbing. In two long steps she was there, her arms wrapped around his waist, their child’s favorite object lodged between them.

“Tempe, I’m sorry,” he choked out as he held her close. “I had the chance to shoot him, but I couldn’t. I was afraid that I would miss. I just practically let him get away freely.”

“It’s not your fault. You got the plates, now we just hope that they match.”

As she finished the sentence, the computer beeped signaling that it found a match. Booth dashed over and wrote down the name. “Steven Crawford. 324 Oak Street.” Booth looked up as the sentence was spoken at the same time as Cullen spoke.

“Two local police units showed up at the home at 11.23pm responding to a report that a car was stolen. It matched the one you described. The owner is a sixty-five year old man.”

Booth groaned and threw the paper to the desk. “Okay, so we’re back to square one. If only I saw the damn guy.” Silence filled the room, no one dared to speak.

They heard the elevator doors ding and a young agent ran into Booth’s office. “Sir, you’ve got a very important call on line 1.”

“Are you tracing it?” questioned Cullen. The younger agent nodded in reply before slipping from the room.

Booth put the phone on speaker. “Booth,” he said.

“Agent Booth, this is an old friend,” replied the man with a garbled voice. “We need to meet. Get five hundred thousand dollars from your bank account. When I see the money move, I’ll contact you again.” The phone clicked.

The electronics agent walked into the office. “Prepaid disposable cell phone. Sorry Booth.”

Booth threw the phone down and broke the receiver.

Brennan wiped at her eyes, still clutching the child’s doll. “I’ll work on getting the money as soon as the banks open.”

Booth nodded. “I’ll go through some pictures, maybe recognize some of the facial features I saw under the streetlight.”

“I’m going to see if I can get a bank manager in early for you guys, and then brief HRT,” announced Cullen before backing away.

Before leaving to get the bank information, Brennan turned to Booth. “This isn’t your fault.” She gave him a peck on the cheek and left the elephant with him.

Uh, oh.. Very intense was the final chapter... I loved the first ones also... I am very interested where are you going with this story. Really.
Did they get Emily safely back? Who was the guy and so one

Good work!

awesome! pps!

Um... I think you should post the next part...

I love epic stories. All the action and drama without the wait for something to happen.

I have to write the next part...

Kasper wrote:I have to write the next part...

Well, I would say get to it, but I think you have something else to write first, don't you?

Well now, it seems that this is the end. Thank you to those that have read and a bigger, super extra thank you to those that reviewed! This was fun to write because I just absolutely love Poe’s poem. I only hope that I was able to properly capture the emotions, or at least something partially resembling human emotions. Thanks for reading!!

Part IV

The office was dark; the only light came from the computer monitor. Booth sat in front of the computer poring over records. Brennan was asleep on the couch that he had dragged in from the break room earlier. He had changed into a suit he had stashed in the back of car for emergencies. He felt that it helped him maintain some composure as he looked through the files of the people that he put behind bars. It had taken him three hours and a lot of patience to make through the files from the cases that he and Brennan had covered in their partnership. However he came up dry with those files he got up to take a break.

He walked to the water cooler in the hall and loosened the tie around his neck. He was sweating a lot because of the stress and he knew that he reeked of sweat and spray the he used to try to hide the smell. He drank four cups of the water and rubbed his eye hoping to muster some energy to read the files. He did a little stretch and returned to the desk. He smiled a small smile as he watched Brennan clutching the stuffed animal in her sleep.

He sat again at the desk and opened the folder on his desktop that held his files from the earliest cases of his career. As he saw the file photos, details from each case hit him as if it was yesterday when they first happened. He saw the case file from his first case, one near his hometown in Philadelphia. He was young at the time, fresh from the war when the case came across his desk. A serial killer was killing women on the street, brutally beating them and strangling them before leaving them in or around places of worship. After eight deaths, they were able to find that it was a pastor from a local church doing the killings, believing that the Lord was telling him to kill the impure women.

Suddenly it hit him like a sack of bricks. The sound in the background of the call was from a church, one he frequented as a kid in Philadelphia. He scrolled quickly to the bottom and stopped breathing when he saw that the man was paroled three weeks to the day. When he started functioning again, he felt everything tense up as his anger level was way above any it had ever been before. He knew the brutal things the man was capable of and how he managed to get out of jail was beyond him.

Booth stood quickly and began to head out. He didn’t wake his wife; he didn’t want her to see what he was going to do to the man. No, she had to stay behind and be safe. He bent down to kiss her cheek and pull his suit jacket over her before stepping out.

He walked quickly down the hallway and pushed the down button for the elevator. The doors dinged open and he stepped forward, nearly colliding with Cullen.

“Agent Booth, there’s something you should know,” started Cullen, but Booth cut him off.

“Ray Stevens aged forty-five. Serial killer from the Philadelphia area, was my first nab. He was paroled three weeks ago.” Booth stared to move passed Cullen to the elevator.

“Yes Booth.” Cullen stuck out an arm. “Where do you think you are going?”

“To get my kid.” Booth turned on his heel and headed towards the stairwell.

“Agent Booth, get back here now!” shouted Cullen at Booth’s back but he continued on. Cullen shook his head and headed to wake up Brennan.

…

Booth flew down the highway, pushing at least ninety as his siren allowed him passage through the early morning commuters. The sun was just beginning to rise and its rays warming the cool morning air. Booth had the front windows down, allowing the air to brush his face in an effort to keep him alert and awake. Before leaving, he took out a small pack that he kept in the back of his truck. He downed two ephedrine pills dry, needing to keep himself up. He couldn’t botch this; he couldn’t live with the effects of everything that could go wrong.

He was only an hour or so away now and he could feel every beat of his heart. He couldn’t tell if it was from the pills or adrenaline or even a possibly deadly mix of the two. His phone sat on the passenger seat, vibrating incessantly. It was Brennan and Cullen trying to get a hold of him. He couldn’t answer the phone. In reality he feared that he would breakdown. But he wanted to be the one to get Emily; he had let his family down by not protecting them fully. It was up to him to right everything. He looked at the clock and pushed the pedal harder, trying to get there faster.

…

He stood outside of the church, taking in its rather decrepit appearance. The church was one in the suburban area outside of Philadelphia, just to his south. When Booth was younger his family would attend it when they used to live in the area. Once a great building of immense size and power, it would unite families of three different towns on Sundays in the name of the Lord. Now it stood there covered in vines and looked as if no one was there in ages.

Booth stood outside and surveyed the area. There were two entrances that were facing him, both covered in overgrowth. He took two deep breaths before moving forward towards the door. His footfalls were light in the grass and he moved without making a sound, similar to his days as a sniper many years ago. Once he got to the door he looked through the broken windows before stepping inside.

The inside of the church smelled of grass and mold as a result of the roof leaking for years. The floorboards creaked below him and he slowed down to prevent making any noise or even falling through a weak board. He crossed through the lobby into the main area of the church. He held his gun to the side so that he was ready if the bastard was there, yet down in case he first came across Emily.

The door to the main part of the church was open and he used his foot to push it open. It creaked as it swung open, startling him, and he quickly raised his weapon. The interior was just as dilapidated as the exterior. Grass started to grow through the cracks and he was pretty sure he saw a rabbit run out past the altar.

He pressed forward slowly, his entire body tense as he prayed for some sign of his daughter. As if his prayer was answered, he heard a faint whimper coming from in front of him and to his right. He stepped forward cautiously to find his daughter bound with rope and had duct tape over her mouth as she lay on the pew. He immediately holstered his weapon and knelt down beside her.

“Baby, I’m going to take the tape off but it’s going to hurt,” he warned, his voice barely holding. Her eyes pleaded with him to help her and he ripped the tape away as quickly and painlessly as possible. She immediately started crying and Booth quickly untied the knots that held her limbs in place. As soon as she was free, she clung to him and started sobbing. Booth could feel the hot tears on his own face as he held her tight and whispered in her ear.

He didn’t hear the footsteps come up behind him, only the sound of a hammer being pulled on a gun. Emily yelped and he put her down, and whispered in her ear. “Get down baby and cover your eyes. When I tell you to run, run to my car outside, lock the doors and stay under the seats okay?” She did as she was told and ran to the end of the row and ducked down.

Booth stood and turned around to face the man holding the gun to his head. Booth almost smirked as he took in the man’s appearance. Booth remembered the case vividly; the man had been young and successful due to the dot com boom, yet that wasn’t enough and led him to kill those he couldn’t have. Now after almost 20 years the man looked as if he was 50 years old and on his death bed. His face had thinned out as did his hair. He hadn’t shaved in a while and the dark hair made his appearance look older. He was wearing an over sized suit, most likely stolen thought Booth, that made him look frail and thin.

“Special Agent Seeley Booth,” started Stevens, his words sounding like nails on a chalkboard to Booth. Still holding the gun up to Booth, he reached forward to take Booth’s gun from the holster to throw it on the floor. “We meet again.”

“Yeah Ray, it seems we do,” he managed to say. It took all his might to keep his voice calm and even.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why we are here today.” Booth stood there, afraid to move. Normally he would have a smartass remark, but knowing that his daughter was in the room changed the ballgame. His heart beat fervently in his chest and he could feel himself starting to sweat; he hoped it was all a result of the pills he took earlier.

“Agent Booth, we are here, back to where it started. I know that I was your first arrest, the first time that you put someone behind bars. You, a fuckin’ rook, took everything that I had. I was young, successful and had everything in front of me. And you! You took it all the way!” He finished the sentence by whacking Booth in the face with the revolver. Booth fell to his knees and put a hand to his face, feeling the blood start to fall.

His anger was at a new level now, as he stood and invaded the man’s personal area, despite the fact that there was a gun pointed at his head. “You think you had everything? You killed people to get to where you were. You killed the mother of your girlfriend because she didn’t want you to see her daughter. You killed your former boss when he wouldn’t give you a positive recommendation. How could you say you had it all when you had to cheat to get it?”

The man just smirked, irrationality dripping from his words. “Regardless, the courts felt that I served my time. And now I’m going to take your life from you just as you took mine from me.”

Stevens lunges forward towards the end of the pew where Emily was hiding. Booth reached for the man as he passed, roughly grabbing his collar and pulling him down. They tumbled and rolled on the ground. Stevens got the upper hand on Booth and punched him solidly on the jaw. Stevens stood up again, this time raising his gun as he headed towards Emily. Booth spit out a mouthful of blood and pounced forward, tugging on the man’s pants and bringing him down.

“Run Emily!” shouted Booth as he straddled the man’s back. He leaned forward so that he was speaking into his ear. “I swear to God that I’m going to kill you for what you’ve done. You can’t have everything in the world and you sure as hell do not deserve it.” His only reply was a sickening laugh. Booth didn’t understand how this man was given parole; in fact he half expected him to have paid someone off or something. Deeply angered now, Booth grabbed Stevens’ hair and slammed his face into the grass covered floor and few times. “How’d you like that one Ray? Did you deserve that?”

Stevens replied by rolling over, catching the tired Booth off guard. Stevens was on top now and in control. He raised his fist to punch Booth, but instead spotted the gun that lay a few feet away. He reached forward to grab it, allowing Booth enough room to push the man off. Booth’s first instinct was to go for the gun in Stevens’ hand. The grappled over it, almost like in the movies where the two characters fight over the gun. If his life wasn’t on the line Booth would have had to laugh at the thought because he always felt that it was impossible.

Booth was startled when he heard the gun discharge. Then he felt the searing pain in his abdomen. Despite that, he took advantage of Stevens’ momentary stunning and turned the gun towards him, firing one shot that went through his head. The body fell to the ground lifelessly.

Booth inhaled deeply, trying to get his heart rate down. His hand went to his stomach and he groaned when he felt the warm liquid. He looked down to find his white shirt stained red from the blood. He was surprised to feel little pain, probably attributed to all the adrenaline. He reached in his pocket for his phone, only to remember that he left it in his truck. He tried to stand to get there, but he felt any energy he had quickly drained from his body. He could only sit there and hope that Cullen would soon arrive.

A movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention and he saw Emily approach him slowly. He raised his hand and gestured for her to come over. She ran the rest of the way and latched onto her father. It was only now that Booth got a good look at her and noticed that she had no wounds. In fact one would never know that she was taken as she stood there in her bunny pajamas.

“Daddy are you okay?” she asked, not moving from his shoulder.

“Yes baby,” he lied, not wanting to alarm her even though he felt his energy leaving.

“But you have a big boo-boo.”

Booth smiled her innocence. “I do baby, I do.” He felt tears streak down his face and he realized that he wasn’t going to make it if help didn’t arrive soon. “Em sweetie, I need you to do me a favor. Daddy’s really tired, so I might fall asleep. If I do and Mommy gets here, tell her that I’m sorry and that I love her. Can you do that for me?”

She pulled away from his shoulder to look at him. “Yes, but can’t you tell her yourself?” She saw his tears and wiped them away with her finger, just as he would do when she fell off her bike.

“I’ll try,” he said weakly, eyes slowly drifting shut.

“Daddy, please don’t go to sleep. Please?” she pleaded with him. Booth tried to stay awake, tried so hard. Sirens were audible in the background and he knew that they were close. “Daddy!”

The sirens were wailing now, mixed with the pleading of Emily. He tried so hard to keep his eyes open, to remain awake to apologize to Bones, to make sure Emily was safe. He had to stay awake… the sirens were loud, wailing now… had to.. stay… awake…

By the way, I had trouble coming up with a bad guy deranged enough to steal someone's kid and to have a real reason to do so. For that, I apologize for how lame the bad guy really is...

Kasper!!!!! You sneaky little ghost...you were writing! I knew it! Well okay, I didn't actually know, but I suspected...and hoped...

Oh, that chapter was sooo good! I was holding my breath the entire time...very suspenseful and exciting! And such wonderful description...I could see everything. And thanks for giving us a way to bring about a happy ending while still keeping to the dark mood of Poe's wonderful poem. Because of course Booth makes it...I'm all about the happy endings! lol.

Thanks so much for writing...I'm forever grateful! And I can change my sig now...haha...

I don't see how that ending is happy?

I said that you found a way to bring about a happy ending...cuz in my mind, when I finish it, it's happy...silly...

Oh... okay...

Silly...do you really think that I'd even imagine that Booth didn't make it? But since you ended the story without actually having him die, you leave us to our own conclusions. So like I said, you found a perfect way to keep within the parameters of the poem, while giving us hope for a happy ending. It was perfect.

flyersfan35 wrote:Silly...do you really think that I'd even imagine that Booth didn't make it? But since you ended the story without actually having him die, you leave us to our own conclusions. So like I said, you found a perfect way to keep within the parameters of the poem, while giving us hope for a happy ending. It was perfect.

I agree with Fly the ending can be happy. I think you did a great job and the story rocked.

Well my goal was to make you pick your own ending, that way I didn't actually have to pick one... so yay it worked!

Thanks for reading!!