The Silent Army

The Silent Army
By Ralkana

Disclaimer ~ Bones is owned by Josephson Entertainment and Far Field Productions, in association with 20th Century Fox Television, based on the novels by Kathy Reichs. I own none of it, but if someone wants to give me Agent Booth for Christmas, I think I could be persuaded.

Comments and feedback to Ralkana47@yahoo.com would be greatly appreciated. Thanks!

Timeline ~ Directly after The Man in the SUV.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

They came again, the night he killed Farid Masruk. It had been quite a while since they'd last visited him.

Seeley dreamed that he woke, in the safety of his bedroom just before dawn, and they were there. A small army, silent and watchful, filling the room and the hallway beyond. They did not scream or moan or gnash their teeth. They simply stood, their wounds bright and garish and brash, louder than any mournful wail or rattling chain. Farid stood among them, the single bullet wound glistening and raw against his lifeless flesh.

A deep breath, and Seeley slid from the bed, standing to face them, to show them he was unafraid, unashamed. He gazed evenly back at them, but his show of courage was a lie; he knew it, and they knew it. His skin crawled in the intensity of their stare, and he fought to keep his breathing steady, to keep from looking away. He lost the battle and turned from them, toward the doorway, to leave them here to inhabit the places of his dreaming mind while he went out and faced the world. They moved with him, their single, simultaneous step like a thunderclap. He flinched but kept going, refusing to look behind him, striding faster and faster through the seemingly endless rooms and hallways of his house. They marched relentlessly after him, their footsteps ringing through the air, louder and louder until they shook the floors and the walls and he could do nothing but crouch and cower as they stood over him and his world shuddered apart around him.

He awoke with a gasp, skin slicked with sweat and pebbled with gooseflesh, the hollow sound of their relentless pursuit echoing and re-echoing in his ears. His breath came in harsh sobs, and he cried out, cringing away from the hand that closed gently around his bicep.

"Seeley, oh my God, are you -- "

"I'm fine, Tessa. Go back to sleep."

"But -- "

"I said I'm fine!" He rolled onto his side, his back to her as he tried to regulate his breathing and control the trembling of his limbs. She was radiating wounded indignation after his snub, but he ignored it, staring into the darkness of his room. He could no longer see them -- the moonlight showed him nothing but an empty room -- but the endless weight of their gaze settled on him like a shroud.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Part II

Timeline ~ Directly after The Mummy in the Maze.

They came again, the night he killed the mask wearing, scatter-gun wielding EMT. He hadn’t seen them since after Epps plunged to his death.

The small army stood in his bedroom in the pre-dawn light, fifty strong, spilling into the hallway beyond. The EMT stood among them, his wound bright and brash, his clown’s face garish and rubbery in the soft light. It sent chills down Seeley’s back, and he locked his knees so they wouldn’t give way beneath him.

A deep breath, and Seeley stepped forward. He would not be haunted by childhood fears, not here, where all-too-grown-up terrors stood silently, watching him with blank, lifeless eyes. He reached up and snatched away the mask of his latest victim, a scream bubbling up and bursting from him as the rubber became a serpent that hissed and writhed in his grasp, fangs sinking deep into the flesh of his wrist. He didn’t notice, didn’t see it or feel it at all, transfixed by what lay behind the mask he had seized.

The skin was pale as maggot-flesh, and the crimson, hellish eyes seared into him, pinning him in place as it stalked toward him. Razor sharp fangs gleamed in the dim light as it threw back its head and howled with sinister glee.

Seeley awoke with a gasp, skin slicked with sweat and pebbled with gooseflesh, the thing’s malevolent laughter echoing and re-echoing in his ears. His breath came in harsh sobs, and he fumbled for the light at his bedside.

Even before his breathing had calmed, he was dialing her number on his cell phone.

"Was wondering if you’d call." She picked up on the first ring, her voice muffled and sleepy.

He swallowed harshly, forcing the terror deep within him. "Just checking -- " His voice was rough, and he stopped to clear his throat.

"To see if I'm okay. I know. I'm fine, Booth. I told you that earlier. Go back to bed." He could hear the irritation she tried to inject in her voice, but he also heard the concern behind the words, and he smiled.

"G'night, Bones."

She hung up without another word, and he turned off the light and rolled over. He tried to force the images to vanish, and a vision of her in her Halloween costume swam behind his closed eyelids. With a tired grin, he drifted back into peaceful slumber.