Best Laid Plans

4

Bones is NOT mine

Still a few months ago...

~•~

Sharp edged plastic bands wrapped around her wrists, held her arms firmly in place behind her and cut into her skin, especially when her bare feet would slide on the cold, slippery stone steps causing her to stumble. He would then grab her arm, jerking her back upright, prodding her onward down the slick staircase. Something... a cloth sack of some sort covered her head... leaving her blind to her surroundings. But she knew ... by the damp, earthy odor filtering through the hood they were descending into some underground realm. Her trench coat had been removed and a cold chill rippled down her spine, as the cool air swept across her bare arms and through the thin silk of her navy blue blouse. She could still hear the rain, pelting a tin roof, and dripping with a plinking sound. She took another step and shuddered as her feet splashed into icy ankle deep water. Her abductor grabbed her shoulder halting her, she could feel him brush past against her, she could hear the metallic jangling of keys, a quiet click, and the creaking of a heavy door slowly opening. Once more rough hands shoved her to proceed. Unaware of her surroundings, she did not know to step up slightly and tripped when her right foot painfully smacked into the concrete threshold. ..Augh! Oww.. Fortunately she was able to regain her footing, avoiding a face down fall onto what felt like a cold, rough cement floor beneath her tender, wet , nearly numb soles. New odors hit her, the air was now stale and musty. Her kidnapper gave another sharp shove between the shoulders to move forward. She stepped carefully, slowly, trying not to trip up again. After several steps, she was stopped ..again, the sound of keys ..again and another creaking door. This time when she was urged to move she stepped gingerly, feeling the floor with her still sore toes, but there was no step this time. The floor beneath her changed, from concrete to freezing cold, smooth tile. But more importantly, were the sounds. Aside from the shuffling slaps of her own damp, bare feet and the tromping of his heavy soled shoes, was a hacking cough, a distant moan of pain, and as they moved further along, the begging pleas for release, from what sounded to be a young woman. ...Where am I?... There are others here... but where is here?... Suddenly, stopped by the iron grip of her captor on her arm, she was turned about and the hood was removed. Immediately, her eyes were assaulted by the harsh glare of florescent lights directly overhead. Static-y strands of hair further hindered her vision. When her eyes did finally adjust and she had blown aside the hair with a few huffs of breath, she saw the face of the man from the parking lot. Her abductor, without his yellow hood, she saw him clearly. Tall with short salt and pepper hair, distinguished features with deep set eyes. But this time, she discerned no warmth in those grey eyes or the sardonic smile he greeted her with now. A smile that quickly transformed into an angry twisted sneer, which he shot over her shoulder, along with a menacing look of warning. In the small cell-like room behind her, a young woman's pleas silenced, and were replaced by quiet sniveling.

"There now ... that's more like it...", He said calmly, the smile was back as he turned his attention back to his newest "guest".

"Who are you!.. Where am I? You're him... the killer we are searching for.", The statement dripping with disgust. "Taking me will not stop them ... Booth will find you, he will bring you to justice and you will pay." She was defiant..despite being in utter terror that she may never actually see her family again. She had examined this mans handy work. He tormented his victims slowly and cruelly. Her threats had little effect on the man. In fact he seemed to be amused by the bravado more than anything.

" Dr. Brennen... that may well end up to be true, however that does not change your current situation in the least . When ... and if... your dear husband finds my little "wine cellar", whether or not he finds you, depends on the choices you make. Hmm?", he spun her around. She was facing a dark, dingy cell like room, dug into the rock, enclosed by wrought iron bars, with a barred door. ...it struck her, this must be an old cavern or mine turned to use as a wine cellar at some point... Inside lying on some sort of make shift bed frame was the young woman. Her arms and feet were bound to the frame. Her bloodshot eyes were held wide in terror staring at their captor. Pain etched across her features.

He swung open the door, and motioned for her enter. Once inside the cell, she noticed the bed frame. Closer inspection revealed the reason for the young womans anguish. The "bed" was little more than a wooden frame, the slats that formed the area one would lay on were so far apart, that lying upon it would not give support, creating pressure points, and unbearable pain over time. She looked over her cell mate, she had a somewhat gaunt appearance. The pale exposed skin of her arms bore numerous raised red scars indicative of burns, her ankles and wrists were bloody and raw from the bindings holding her prostrate on the frame. She turned toward her captor with a look of horror. His attention was upon her solely.

"I shall give you a choice, I will leave you bound as you are... or...you could take Amandas place. I'm afraid there is only the one bed. So you have a decision to make."

"What?" ...If I say no then she remains in pain, and she looks so weak already... but if I take her place... I suffer. I am in better health... I could relieve her, but for how long? ... She looked into the pleading eyes of her cellmate.

"Well... have you made a decision yet?" His eyes and tone gave no hint to his preferred answer.

"If I take her place... what happens to her?, She glanced at the bed frame.

"Oh ... well nothing, in her current condition I hardly think she can cause me any further problems.." He looked at the bound woman and smiled condescendingly, "Isn't that right my dear? Now .. what shall it be..hmm?"

She wished at that moment, that she was more like Booth or even Sweets, but she could not tell whether he was lying or not. She had no "gut" to rely on or a strong basis in reading physical cues to know. ... Logically..I should protect myself... if I'm to effect an escape... I will need to remain healthy. But that poor woman... still, he could be lying... I could end up bound and in pain and he could hurt her even worse and I would be helpless to do anything to help...

"I have made my decision...", She took a deep breath, attempting to quell the sick feeling of dread swirling around inside her.

~•~

Hmm decisions.. decisions.

This was not so good... sorry. Maybe it will get better.

Reviews are welcomed... and cherished as the rare unicorns they seem to be.