Disclaimer: I do not own Bones.
A/N: Okay I know I promised to finish secrets for those of you who are reading it, but this one is almost completed and with a little prodding from my good friend Lara, I am succumbing and posting it. I'll be posting more as I read through the chapters so as to double check for grammar and spelling as well as wording, and also to make certain everything holds consistent. This one is a lot more angst ridden than anything else I've posted so far, so I hope you guys enjoy it. Please read and review!!
It was a dark night, shadows seemingly everywhere she looked as she walked the brief distance from her car to her apartment building. Even the sky had blocked out the light of the stars and the moon as ominous clouds drifted overheard. She had put in a long day and she knew it was approaching 2 am, there seemed to be no one on the street, which she thought was normal for the hour. As she neared her apartment building she thought she saw a shadow move out of the corner of her eye, but she shook it off, thinking she imagined it. Silently scolding herself for her wild imagination all of a sudden. She went inside not giving the shadowy movement another thought.
She opted to climb the stairs up to her apartment rather than use the elevator. She never used it if she could help it, opting always for the exercise that the stairs would bring her as she climbed the five flights up to her floor.
Just as she reached her apartment door she heard a noise coming from the stairs below, so she paused straining to listen. Once more she shook her head, thinking her imagination was running away with her again. She had heard no further sound and placed her key inside the doors lock, turning it and pushing her door open. As she made her way inside she turned to close the door only to have it shoved back at her, hitting her face with great force, She heard a loud crack and knew without question her nose had been broken from the blow. As blood gushed from her nose and she recovered from the daze the hit to her head had caused her she once again saw a shadowy figure, but this one she knew was corporal. It was right in front of her and she saw the figure move inside and closed her door, locking it with her own key and then placed the key to her deadbolt in his pocket.
He then reached out, grabbing hold of her hair and proceeded walking towards her living area, not releasing his hold, effectively dragging her towards the couch by her hair. She tried to speak but the pain of both her broken nose and his fierce yanking of her hair made it impossible for her to say anything more that a few grunts and gurgles as the blood from her nose filled her mouth and left a trail from the door to the couch where the man unceremoniously tossed her, releasing her hair. "Stay there" His gruff voice commanded as he moved to sit on a chair beside the couch, as though he was a simple guest and not an intruder who had just broken her nose.
The man sat calmly, waiting for her to regain the use of her voice. He made no move towards her and didn't expect her to fight him in any way. She was a small woman, fairly attractive, but not well muscled by the look of her. At least not well muscled compared to him. He had trained for this mission since he was a boy, practicing martial arts and other forms of fighting, body building to tone his large muscles. He knew he would need the strength for when he finally came up against him. The man who had caused his life's suffering. The one man responsible for all the misery the world had heaped upon him since he was a child. He had not only trained, but studied and researched. He had made his way into the military's database with help from some of his hacker friends and was able to gleam the information that led him here, to the man himself. It had been difficult to pinpoint which operation was to blame for his suffering, however it had become all too clear once the last encrypted file his friend had hi-jacked was decoded. He had had to use all his connections and resources to gain all the information, however he was undeterred, and his determination had finally paid off when the last detail had been brought to his attention. The file had listed a specific name, the man who had done the deed, and with that he began to research the man behind the name. It was hard to believe it was just ten years ago and now he was considered a man. A man who is barely 17, but a man none the less. He remembered that day vividly, as he always would.
How could he forget the man he cherished the most hitting the ground in front of him. Now the cause of that suffering had to pay, and the woman before him was the first step towards his retribution. She would suffer, not because the man wanted her to, but because he wanted him to. He was the cause of all that would befall the young woman who sat before him, clutching her nose. He pitied her, for what he would do to her, but it was unavoidable, as this was how to make the man suffer. He had been watching for months, ever since he had located him. He had planned what he would do, taking away everything the man held dear. However he could not bring himself to hurt the boy, the man's son, because that would be too much. He remembered all too well what it was like to be that child, and he also knew that when this child grew up it was a good possibility if this didn't go exactly as planned he would be coming after him one day. He wasn't as cruel as the man he now sought to ruin however; he would not end his life in front of the boy. With any luck he would make him so miserable the man would end his own life, if not, he would certainly end it for him. First though, he wanted to be sure the man suffered a great deal, and unfortunately, he thought as he looked upon the woman once more, she was the only key to his suffering other than the boy. He had been glad to find an alternative, but she seemed so innocent, so pure of heart in all he'd seen of her when he had been watching. For that reason he wasn't going to enjoy what he was about to do, but he would enjoy the suffering it caused the man, the FBI agent. That suffering he would enjoy immensely. He will watch as his life slowly crumbles around him. He will laugh heartily at the agent as he falls farther and farther into the depths of despair.
After a few minutes the bleeding had finally ceased and she stared at the man sitting before her, "Who are you? What is it you want with me?" She asked, her voice filled with a kind of hateful curiosity. The glare he received from her icy gaze couldn't be mistaken for anything but disdain.
He returned her gaze, however his was not one of hatred or disdain, it was one of pity and sorrow. That look made her hatred for him grow even before he opened his mouth to speak. How dare he pity her. She was not a person to be pitied. She was a person who prided herself on her accomplishments; accomplishments primarily made by her alone, with the exception of the criminal cases she worked with Booth. She controlled everything she did, and accomplished things without help for others. There should be no pity for her; she had fought long and hard after her parents disappeared to keep that pitying gaze directed away from her, at others, but never at her. "Who I am is of no importance, and neither is what I want, you have no say in the matter." His voice was cold, but with a twinge of regret.
She sat straighter on the couch, not daring to try and get up. She knew if she did all he would have to do is hit her near her nose and the blood would start flowing again and send her into another bout of agonizing pain. So instead of trying to get away she decided to try engaging the man in conversation. She figured that as long as he was talking it gave her time to come up with a plan of action before he did whatever he was planning. She could tell that whatever it was he wasn't overly keen on following through with it, so maybe she could convince him otherwise. If she was lucky her overprotective partner would stop by with Thai food tonight, but glancing at the clock on the wall she found that to be unlikely as it was rapidly approaching three am. "Why then? Why me? Why are you even doing this?"
He closed his eyes for but a moment, willing the tears to stay back, how could he instill the fear he needed to in this woman if he cried while doing so? Her questions had forced him back to the day it happened, when he was but 7. It was his most painful memory. Steeling himself once again he looked directly into her eyes, she did deserve to know why. He would give her that much. "A man, long ago, killed my father. I have made it my goal in life to cause him as much suffering as he has caused me. You are the start of that suffering."
She looked at him, a strange mixture of confusion and anger playing across her face, "Why would I be the start of any ones suffering? What does this man have to do with me?" She put her elbow on the arm of the couch and rested her throbbing head in her hand, waiting for his response.
"You....you have everything to do with this man. He loves you, though I fear you may not know it. You are the closest thing to hurting him I can get without harming his son." A slight recognition shined on Brennan's face at the mention of a son, she was only close to one person who had a son; Booth. Booth had killed this man's father? She thought back scrolling her memory, hoping for something to connect to the man she saw before her. She could only think of one story that he had told her... when he was a sniper... the birthday party... this...this must be the little boy. Her eyes now shone with the same pity he was giving her moments earlier. A dead sadness welled within her for him, while a level of disgust at his current actions remained.
"You're wrong." She stated bluntly, raising her head off her hand and shaking it lightly so as not to cause herself more pain than she was already experiencing.
He shook his head abruptly once, "No I am not, but what do you think I am wrong about?"
"You're wrong about everything. Booth, for starters, does not love me," She scoffed as she spoke, almost laughing at the ridiculousness of the man's assumption, "And he...he deeply regrets what happened with your father. He told me, but he also told me the things your father had been doing, he killed a lot of people..."
The man jumped to his feet at her comment, his arm rose, as if to slap her across the face as a growl escaped his lips, "Never…Never speak ill of my father"
He refrained from lashing out and hitting her when he saw her face, still covered in blood from when he had hit her with the door. Lowering his hand he grabbed her by the arm and jerked her around so the she was facing away from him and jerked her other arm behind her as well. Holding both her wrists in one of his large hands he pulled a rope out of his pocket and began winding it tightly around her wrists. "Enough talking, now we must leave here, it will be morning soon and he will come. We must be gone before then."