11x22 - The Nightmare in the Nightmare

Episode transcripts for the TV show "Bones". Aired September 2005 - March 2017.*
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A forensic anthropologist and a cocky FBI agent build a team to investigate death causes. And quite often, there isn't more to examine than rotten flesh or mere bones.
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11x22 - The Nightmare in the Nightmare

Post by bunniefuu »

Previously on Bones...

Aubrey: Body was found in Cherrywood Park.

Somebody wanted the body to be found.

Brennan: The evidence collected is far from... normal.

Aubrey: His name is George Gibbons.

Booth: George, look at me.

I need to know who you're working with.

Oh, my God, he didn't do it.

In Gibbons, he chose the perfect accomplice, somebody he could easily manipulate.

A video camera?

Someone was watching him.

He's smart.

He's smarter than anybody.

If I talk, he'll know.

Gibbons is dead.

Hanged himself in his cell.

Brennan: Our k*ller drilled holes into his victims. He lived with the body for an extended period of time.

Saroyan: Oh, my God.

He was turning his victims into marionettes.

We're not dealing with an amateur psychopath.

This guy's a serial m*rder*r.

Given the k*ller's M.O., it is very likely he is out there looking for his next victim as we speak.

You're not taking responsibility for all this.

Booth. Booth.

If we hadn't quit our jobs...

Allison Monroe still would have been k*lled.

The cameras were still transmitting when I found them, which means the k*ller could've been watching when Booth and Brennan came to the house.

This very sick individual could know exactly who we are.


The victim has fourth-degree burns extending along the length of the body.

His hands are badly damaged.

Dr. Hodgins, can you tell what caused the expl*si*n?

Based on the smell, I'd say it's some kind of peroxide, possibly TCAP.

I'll run a sample through the Gas Chromatograph/ Mass Spectrometry.

Poor guy.

His face looks like molten lava.

I'll get started on the facial reconstruction.

Oh, please do so as quickly as possible.

I am certain that the victim's identity is the key to finding our k*ller.

Based on what? You just laid eyes on the guy.

Well, I can't explain it, but for some reason, when I look at him, I am confident he is the key.

I hate to say it, but I think you might be right.

This guy is different.

Check this out.

There's a drill hole in the left clavicle.

Montenegro: All the serial k*ller's victims had drill holes, Hodgins.

It's how he hung them like marionettes.

Yeah, I know, but... look closer.

No, this is an aberrant event.

He's dead. Postmortem injuries don't typically bleed.

Montenegro: You sure about that?

Looks to me like old wounds can cut deep.

(Brennan yells)

(gasps)

Booth: Bones.

Bones!

You okay?

Yes, I'm fine.

How long was I sleeping?

Well, not-not long.

For probably about half an hour.

That means we must be near.

I should check my kit.

Make sure I'm ready. (sniffles)

You had another one, didn't you?

It's just another dream.

It's nothing you need to concern yourself with.

Bones, what are you... How can you say that?

I mean, you haven't slept in a week.

Not since this nutbag missed his timeline.

Interval.

With a serial k*ller, the time between murders is an interval.

What?

What difference does it make?

All this guilt that you're feeling... you gotta know there's nothing you nor I could've done here.

Booth, I appreciate your trying to help, but you should know that your words are having the opposite effect.

I promise, I will sleep when this is over.

(distant siren wailing, car door closing)

(indistinct radio transmission)

Saroyan: The body was found by a demolition crew.

Apparently, the whole building's being torn down and turned into a charter school focused on math and science.

Oh, did you hear that? They're turning it into a squint school.

That's good, right?

Yes. Excellent news.

Perhaps someday, the United States can surpass Estonia in math and science.

Oh. So still not sleeping, huh?

Where is Dr. Hodgins?

Has he already started on the remains?

No. The tissue is so thoroughly desiccated, there's almost no insect activity, so I figured I'd let him sit this one out.

That's too bad.

I was really hoping to see him.

I heard that he actually got some feeling back in his legs.

Saroyan: He has.

Unfortunately, that feeling isn't an altogether pleasant one.

Booth: Okay, take her up. Let's go.

It's odd that this body was left here.

The previous two victims were found in national parks.

Which means our k*ller has altered his method of disposal.

Booth: Okay, look, maybe this isn't the Puppeteer or whatever it is you want to call him.

Saroyan: Oh, it's him, Seeley. Trust me.

Also, if we're voting on names, I like Puppito, the little puppet.

Okay, whoa, whoa, whoa? Puppito?

That moniker doesn't make any sense.

It doesn't elicit any fear.

Well, I'm with Cam on this one.

New rule: serial K*llers don't get cool or frightening nicknames.

No matter how terrifying they are.

Booth: Talk about a classroom from hell, huh?

Well, you'll note all the adipose was removed and the skin was put through a tanning process.

My best estimate is Puppito lived with the body at least six months.

So in other words, this one is just like the others.

Brennan: Small, non-projecting mastoid, sharp supraorbital margin...

The victim was a Caucasian female.

What about the trauma to the face?

The same as before.

The damage is postmortem, inflicted by a right-handed assailant.

Booth: Oh.

Saroyan: What have you got?

Nothing new.

Just a Bible in the drawer and a mix tape.

Saroyan: Which means he's following the exact same ritual.

No, this one is different.

Why? Just because this is a classroom setting?

Brennan: Also, look at the victim's clothes.

The ensemble is much more contemporary than the last one.

The blouse, the pants... they're made by a modern designer using only sustainable materials.

Saroyan: Are you sure?

I mean, how could you possibly know that?

You didn't even look at the label.

I used to own a similar outfit.

Wait, what do you mean, used to?

I donated it... to the thrift store at the Women's Mission Center.

Saroyan: What is it?

Booth: It's a sales tag from the Women's Mission Center.

These are your clothes, Bones.

The victim is meant to be you.

♪ Bones 11x22 ♪
The Nightmare in the Nightmare

♪ Main Title Theme ♪
The Crystal Method

♪ ♪

The victim suffered perimortem fractures of the left and right ulnae, also the right triquetral and hamate.

Defensive fractures.

She went out with a fight.

What about Dr. Brennan? Do you want me to e-mail her the X rays or should we let her sleep?

E-mail her. Trust me, she's not sleeping.

I'm seeing soil deposits here, on the shoes.

I'm gonna analyze that as quickly as I can.

Bray: I don't understand.

I thought you said that Dr. Brennan went home after her initial examination.

Oh, she did, but not to sleep.

Given the circumstances, she wanted to make sure Hank and Christine were safe.

I gotta say, I can't blame her.

I mean, this is creepy to the power of ten, this k*ller just targeting her.

Saroyan: I agree, but she still has to take care of herself.

If she's not healthy, she's no good to anyone.

Speaking of which, how are you doing?

Me? No, fine, yeah. Never better.

Hodgins, come on.

You're wearing the headband because you're perspiring from the pain.

No. It's a fashion statement.

No, you look like a young Bill Walton.

No one wants to look like Bill Walton.

Fine.

Look, I'm experiencing some minor discomfort.

But I'm telling you that this is actually a good thing.

My doctor said that neuropathic pain is just, you know, a common thing during recovery.

And what does your doctor say about pain management?

That as long as I don't have to talk about it, it'll be fine.

Okay.

I guess I'll get started on a tox screen.

Also... it's strange, but I found quite a few loose hairs that appear to have been cut postmortem.

Hodgins: Huh.

You know what I think?

The k*ller was grooming her.

Look. I ran my facial reconstruction through missing persons and got a match.

Melissa Goodman.

No, I see what you're saying.

Her hair was considerably longer before she was abducted.

Montenegro: Yeah. And look at the way the k*ller styled it.

Does it remind you of anyone we know?

He made her look just like Dr. Brennan.

If you come up with anything, just let me know, all right?

Thanks.

You got something?

Ah, I just got off the phone with the thrift store where Bones donated all her clothes and no one remembers who purchased them.

Well, any cameras in the store?

Sales receipts?

Nothing.

How about you? What did you come up with?

Well, I listened to the mix tape that you found at the scene.

It's the same as the last one: all childhood favorites.

"Buffalo Gals," "A Tisket, A Tasket," "Frère Jacques"...

Send that over to Angela.

See if she can pick it apart.

Will do, but I'm also going to do some digging of my own.

There's something familiar about these songs.

I just can't figure out what it is.

What about her husband?

Well, he should be here shortly.

It turns out he and Melissa were separated at the time she went missing.

Does he have a record?

Him? Nothing so far, but I'll keep digging.

You take a look at the victim's file?

Oh, I sure did.

You're gonna like this one.

Two DUIs, drunk and disorderly.

She was also fired from her last job for embezzlement.

So not a pillar of the community like the others.

Which means he picked her because he needed a surrogate for Dr. Brennan.

Yep. That's right.

Here she is.

Tempe, relax.

I'm gonna take great care of the kids.

You have nothing to worry about.

Nothing to worry about?

Dad, I swear, if anything happens to either one of them...

Hey.

Nothing will happen to them.

Hey, talk to me.

I've never seen you so frightened, not even when we were on the run.

Well, if it's all the same, I'd rather not talk about it.

Oh, okay.

Tough beans.

Tough beans? Tough beans?

That's the best, most cogent argument you have for me?

Well, it worked when you were a kid.

I would say "tough beans," and, uh... the argument was over.

I remember.

I'm your dad.

You-you can talk to me about anything.

Uh...

Honestly, it's probably just a symptom of being sleep deprived...

(sighs)

...but I started feeling like I was being watched.

At the lab, in my car, even at home.

I'm...

I know it's illogical and I have no empirical evidence.

Forget evidence.

Well, that's not your nature, but... but be careful.

Please.

Mr. Goodman.

You doing okay?

Seem a tad bit nervous.

I-I'm fine, I just... didn't think we'd be meeting in here.

Booth: Sorry about that.

Conference room was booked.

So, you want to tell us about your wife Melissa.

Look... our relationship was complicated.

Melissa had difficulties with alcohol.

That must be your excuse for b*ating her.

No. No, I didn't.

Aubrey: Really?

'Cause I dug up a police report from about a year ago that suggests otherwise.

No, what happened was Melissa was drunk.

She slipped and hit her head. Look at the report.

Well, assume for a second that we believe you, you think of anyone else who'd want to harm her?

I don't because we weren't... we weren't even talking when she went missing.

Her therapist thought it'd be best if we took a time out.

Her therapist.

Psychologist.

His name is Dr. Brandon Faulk.

I take it he was treating her for alcoholism?

Initially, yes, and then... something happened.

She started to develop new symptoms.

She'd wake up in the middle of the night screaming.

Wait a second, you're saying she was having nightmares?

About what?

I don't know.

(groans)

(breathing heavily)

Oh, my God.

Are you okay?

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Angie, I'm just having some involuntary contractions here.

Okay, uh, uh, here.

Just, um...

I-I-I picked up your medication.

I have some Valium.

No, no, no, wait.

It's okay, it's okay.

It's passing, it's passing, keep it for later.

Are you sure?

Yeah, yeah, yeah, no.

I'm good.

Everything's good.

(sighs)

Thanks, Angie.

Yeah.

I'm gonna clean this up, um... first let me show you what I was working on here.

Look at this.

I, uh... I found this food remnants between the victim's teeth.

See this?

Um... let me guess, this is the same gruel that he fed to the others?

No, this is seitan.

It's a-it's a food made from gluten, which is the main ingredient in wheat.

This particular piece, it was drenched in, like, a piccata sauce.

You know, lemon juice, capers, shallots.

Wait a-wait a second.

Seitan with piccata?

That's... that's one of Brennan's favorite meals.

But... how could he know that, unless that he's...

Hold on, hold on, hold on, before you get ahead of yourself, let me show you what else I found.

See this here?

This is actually the soil that I found on the victim's shoes.

Now, it's got a very high salt content, which means that it's probably from a brackish region, but I also found disinfectant underneath the soil.

Okay, I'm nodding here and just pretending like I have some idea what you're talking about.

Angela, I think that the k*ller actually wiped the shoes clean before muddying them.

I mean, think about it.

We know that this guy's got this, like, crazy genius IQ level and he's manipulative as they come.

So, it's possible that he planted the evidence in order to mislead us?

That's the problem.

With this guy, we can't even trust the evidence that we've got.

(playing over tape recorder): ♪ Frère Jacques, Frère Jacques ♪
♪ Dormez-vous? Dormez-vous? ♪
♪ Sonnez Les matines, sonnez Les matines ♪
♪ Ding, ding, dong, ding, ding, dong ♪
♪ ♪
♪ Frère Jacques, Frère Jacques ♪
♪ Dormez-vous? Dormez-vous? ♪
♪ Sonnez Les matines, sonnez Les matines... ♪

I am sorry to keep you both waiting.

Usually when a patient calls, it's a matter of some importance.

Well, not a problem.

Thanks for taking the time to see us.

Dr. Faulk, I must say the decor here is unlike anything I've seen in a psychologist's office.

These f*ring neurons are quite beautiful.

Faulk: Oh, I'm glad you appreciate them.

Neuroscience was what I got my first doctorate in, so my tendencies are a bit more physiological than my colleagues.

Please sit.

I tend to view psychology as something of a soft science.

It's far too open to interpretation, so in my practice, I do what I can to remedy that.

I find your ambition to be admirable.

As, uh, as I said on the phone, I'm happy to do whatever I can do to be of assistance, however, that said, I can't breach doctor-patient confidentiality.

What if I told you other people's lives are at stake?

I see. Well, uh... then, please, ask.

I'll do what I can to answer.

Let's start with potential suspects.

Melissa... did she ever mention anyone who scared her?

About a month prior to Melissa's disappearance, she began exhibiting symptoms of paranoia.

She also began experiencing nightmares, premonitions that she was going to be k*lled.

Premonitions?

You believe that she was foreseeing her own future?

Uh, let me explain.

In my studies, I have found that vivid and emotional dreams are linked to two parts of the brain-- the amygdala and the hippocampus.

The amygdala, we know, controls emotional response.

The hippo...

The hippocampus has been implicated in memory function.

(chuckles)

Well, in my opinion, nightmares are a desperate attempt for memory and emotion to try to connect with each another.

Okay, look, so...

(clears throat) ...you're saying that Melissa knew who her k*ller was and the answer was in her dreams?

Yeah.

Results from the tox screen show traces of propofol and Succinylcholine.

So cause of death was poisoning.

Which means she was k*lled the exact same way the others were.

Not exactly.

On the right hand, I found longitudinal fractures of the second, third, and fourth proximal phalanges.

Also, take a look at this direct fracture on the base of the occipital.

Wow, a blow there would likely have rendered the victim unconscious.

Taken as a whole, the narrative of these injuries suggests the k*ller struggled when abducting his victims.

There's something else.

The holes drilled into the body correspond perfectly with muscle attachments.

I'm telling you, this guy knows human anatomy.

Aubrey: I knew it.

Told you that music sounded familiar.

What is this?

Songbook published in 1978.

In it-- every one of the songs on the tape that the k*ller left us, in order.

There's no way that's a coincidence.

How many of these were published?

Just a couple thousand.

Publisher out of Michigan.

Most of the sales were in-state.

Oh. How'd you know about this?

My good old Aunt Donna in Lansing sent it to me.

What can I say?

I've been a singer since the day I was born.

Maybe you want me to bust out a little a Capella to refresh your memory, there.

That is okay. I got enough horror in my life as it is.

Ouch.

Wait a second.

If this was published in 1978, this helps narrow down the age of the k*ller.

Yep. Also tells us where he likely grew up.

All right.

Do me a favor, will you?

Hand me the, uh, Goodman file.

(computer chirping)

(computer chirping)

Dr. Brennan.

I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you.

You look like you could use a little caffeine.

Thank you.

If you don't mind, can I ask what you're looking at?

It's nothing.

Past cases.

Burn victims.

For some reason... I think it might be relevant.

Okay, well, I'm going to get back to the bones.

Let me know if you need anything, okay?

I will, thank you.

Wha...?

Hello?

(alarm sounding)

Mr. Bray?

Mr. Bray?

(electrical crackling)

Dr. Hodgins?

Angela, are y...

(loud electrical crackling)

Dr. Saroyan?

(footsteps)

Hello? Who... Whoever you are, I can hear you.

(footsteps continue)

Please, I must ask you to stop where you are, and identify yourself.

(footsteps continue)

Whoever you are, I-I must warn you, I'm holding hydrochloric acid.

I-if you value your life, or at a-a minimum, your appearance, I advise you to stop advancing.

(footsteps cease)

Well, that's what I figured.

(gasps, screams)

(glass shattering)

(screams)

(growling)

(screaming)

(gasps)

(sighs)

(exhales)

(clears throat)

Bray: Dr. Brennan?

A-are you okay?

I heard you call out.

Yes, I'm fine.

Nothing to worry about.

Everything's going to be okay, Dr. Brennan.

(Brennan sighs)

You'll figure it out.

And... if you knew what I knew, you'd be so proud of me.

(screaming)

(gasping)

Tempe.

Tempe, what's the matter?

(yells) Hey, whoa, it's Dad, it's Dad.

It's going to be all right.

It'll be all right, all right.

(gasping)

Dad...

I need help.

Oh...

Oh, come on, Bones, don't you even want to try to talk this out?

No, why would I? You're not an expert in this field.

Field? In what field, listening to you?

'Cause trust me, no one has logged more hours.

Okay, you know what? I'm coming with you.

No, Booth, I am a full-grown adult.

I don't need you to babysit me.

Okay, all I'm asking, is that you keep your phone on you so I can reach you at any time.

My father will be back shortly, when he is, you can leave for work.

Bones, why are you even doing this?

You don't even believe in psychology.

You're right. I don't.

That should tell you exactly how desperate I am.
(clicks)

(soft whirring)

Let me explain how this works.

Nightmares are, essentially, a safe way to process threats stored in our autobiographical memories.

Now, my goal... is to help you figure out what it is in your past that's threatening you.

And to, presumably, do so before I am m*rder*d.

Like what happened to your previous client.

Dr. Brennan... if you'd like to consult with someone else...

No.

I am willing to do whatever is necessary to make this stop.

How would you like me to begin?

When a body is brought into your lab, how do you begin to catalogue the injuries?

I'm not sure I understand, uh, but, um, with skeletal remains, I...

I typically begin with trauma that is most readily apparent.

Good.

(exhales deeply)

(exhales and laughs)

Let's close our eyes.

Now I want you to try to visualize your autobiographical timeline as a set of remains.

What trauma do you see that's most readily apparent?

My mother and my father abandoning me...

...and my mother's subsequent m*rder.

Tell me more about your mother.

What was her name?

Booth: Chapter seven. I can't believe how good of a reader you are.

Okay, here we go.

"There was a table set out under a tree in front of the house, and the March Hare and the Hatter were having tea at it."

Yes. (smooches)

Sorry to break up the tea party, but Hank's asleep.

That means Daddy's got to get to work.

You go put your shoes on, okay?

All right.

Can I talk to you?

Yeah.

I'm worried about Tempe.

Look, so am I.

Listen, this therapist that she's seeing, seems to think that her past has to do with her nightmares, which means I need you to come clean with me.

About what?

Everything, every-every robbery, every crook that you double-crossed, every m*rder, anyone who could be coming after Bones.

Booth, we've been through all this.

I have no more secrets left to hide.

(phone rings)

What is it, Aubrey?

I'm kind of in the middle of something here.

I got a potential suspect for you.

His name is Graham Reynolds.

He's a puppeteer who has a store in West Point, Virginia.

A city which, according to Hodgins, is known for its brackish soil.

The same soil we found on the victim's shoe?

The reason that Reynolds didn't pop up on our radar is because he just now re-opened his shop.

It had been shut down while he was in prison.

What were the charges?

Attempted m*rder.

The guy did two years in Sussex.

Good work, just text me the location.

I'll meet you there.

Listen, Max...

Daddy, please, don't leave.

Hey, hi.

Okay, listen, I am gonna be back soon, okay?

Hey. I love you.

I love you, too. Listen, you stay here with Grandpa and I'll bring back ice cream, okay? Kiss.

(smooches) All right.

Go with your grandpa.

Go ahead.

Booth.

Yeah?

Puppet: Right this way.

Oh...

Okay, uh...

Right this way.

I'm afraid of clowns.

Yeah, hi. (clears throat)

Hello.

How are you doing?

Are you boys here for the party?

No, we're looking for Graham Reynolds.

Uh, is he around?

Are you, like, talent scouts?

Sure, sounds about right.

Mm, I thought so.

If you like, you can peek your head inside, catch the end of the show.

All I ask is that you don't talk.

It ruins the whole experience.

Right.

Okay, well...

(Graham shouting weakly)

Graham: Come here, come, come, come, come here. Come here.

(in high voice): Ah, no! No, no, no.

Booth: Small crowd.

I guess the word got out that our puppet master was a felon.

Booth, shh.

You're ruining the experience.

(in high voice): Stop, you tell me.

What did you do with the babysitter?

(in deep voice): You want to know what I did with the babysitter?

Well... first, I did a little of this!

And then I did some of this!

And then this!

What the hell am I watching here?

Aubrey: It looks like his take on Punch and Judy.

It's a puppet show from the old days, like a...

Itchy and Scratchy from the Victorian era.

Oh, no, is she dead?

I don't know.

It appears that she is dead.

Oh, well.

Happy birthday!

(Graham laughs)

Thank you.

Thank you so much.

(sighs)

It is so good to be back.

(clears throat)

(clearing throat)

And for those of you who would like to learn more about puppeteering, please stay in your seats.

I just need to take a quick recess and I will be right back.

Thank you. Thank you.

Okay, it looks like he made us, huh?

So much for being talent scouts.

(children talking quietly)

(hinges creaking)

(hinges creaking)

Booth: Whoa. Okay.

(Aubrey exhales heavily)

Um... Booth.

Yeah?

I've got something over here I think you're gonna want to see.

Booth, you all right?

You see him?

No, it looks like he went out the window.

All right, right there.

Let's go, happy puppet boy.

(whimpering)

Come on.

Sit down.

Or at least he wanted me to think he went through the window.

Drop the hammer. Drop it.

(grunts)

(door opens)

Hey, Cam just called.

In Reynolds's basement, she found blood in the drain.

What do you got?

I got Reynolds's files.

His, uh, psych report from the prison and his bank statements.

Anything good?

No.

He didn't do it.

Graham (over intercom): Hello.

How are you?

Hi, Mr. Bunny.

(quietly): ...four, five, six, seven...

(door closes)

12 little bunnies.

You can stop with that.

Mr. Reynolds, I need to ask you some questions.

Let's start with the guy who was subletting your basement for the past year.

I don't know what you mean.

Okay, let me introduce you to a friend of mine.

(over intercom): His name is George Gibbons.

He kind of reminds me of you.

High school drop out, criminal record, expendable.

Look, the guy who rented your basement, he lied to you.

I need a name.

I don't know his name.

But he paid you.

Yeah, I needed money to open my shop.

The banks all laughed at me.

How did he pay you?

Cash.

He left it on my workbench at the first of every month.

I need to know what he looks like.

I don't know.

You're scared, aren't you?

You saw him.

I s-s... once.

I-I-I was curious and I shouldn't have.

What did he look like?

I didn't-I didn't-I...

What did he look like?

I couldn't see his face.

It was too dark.

He was wearing a sweatshirt with, um, a-a hood on it and he had... he had gloves.

What else? (clears throat)

I don't know.

I didn't see anything else, I swear.

I don't know who he is.

I don't.

(sighs)

(thunder crashing)

Okay, let's go back to the beginning.

The first victim, Douglas Burkhart.

No.

The first two murders make sense, all right?

The problem is the most recent victim.

Melissa Goodman.

She doesn't fit the profile.

Exactly, so why is he going after her?

(sighs)

I don't know.

Maybe he just needed someone that he could dress up like Dr. Brennan.

I don't know.

It's got to be something else.

Okay, so, uh, in the-in the basement, there were the photos of all of us.

No, no, I'm not buying that, all right?

The photos, they're just a smokescreen.

Well, I agree.

Everything else points to Dr. Brennan.

The way the victim was clothed.

The way her hair was cut.

The question is, how does k*lling Melissa get him closer to Bones?

Well, it doesn't.

If anything, Dr. Brennan is more vigilant now than ever.

Even as we speak, she's getting help so we can find this guy.

Wait a second.

That's it.

Bones is getting help from Melissa's therapist right now.

Son of a bitch.

Now keep your eyes closed.

I invite you... to listen only to the sound of my voice.

I'd like you to return to your dreams.

(Brennan yells)

Tell me what you see.

I see a b*rned...

Caucasian male.

(distantly): His face is like molten lava.

You know him.

No.

He's unrecognizable.

(distantly): Look closer, here.

But he's not dead.

He's bleeding.

He is your husband.

No.

(distantly): Looks to me like old wounds can cut deep.

I-I don't want to know who he is.

(electrical crackling)

You've moved on.

Where are you?

I'm in my office.

The intern, is he there?

(distorted): Dr. Brennan, are you okay?

I heard you call out.

(gasps)

His hands, they're b*rned.

Like the other victim.

He has a cigarette tucked behind his ear.

(distorted): Everything's gonna be okay, Dr. Brennan.

You'll figure it out.

It's an affectation of his.

It's... something he used to do.

When?

I-I don't remember.

(distorted): If you knew what I knew, you'd be so proud.

Bray's voice (distorted): Dr. Brennan.

Who is he? Who is he?

Who is he?

(distorted scream)

Who is he?!

Who is he?

(Brennan screams)

Faulk: Who is he? Who is he?

Bones, get away from him.

Booth, what-what-what's... what are you doing?

Move. Get away from him.

Agent Booth, what is happening?

Put your hands behind your back.

Do it.

Faulk: What?

(Faulk shouts)

It's him, Bones.

It's him.

He did it. He k*lled her to get to you.

Look, all I'm saying, Bones, is take a look at his file.

His parents were m*rder*d when he was seven-years-old.

What?

You think that a first grader is capable of m*rder?

I'm not saying he k*lled them.

All I'm saying is that their deaths fit the profile.

Or it could simply explain his profession.

Often those who enter psychology do so because they have suffered traumatic loss.

You're defending him.

No, I am merely pointing out that you have no proof.

Think about it.

This guy is smart, he knows basic anatomy, and he is manipulative!

Nothing you are saying is proof.

He was trying to help.

He was playing you.

He was just trying to get close you.

I disagree.

I am done arguing with you.

If you think he's innocent, go ahead and prove it.

I will.

Until then, I am not letting this guy out of my sight.

(door opens)

(people laughing, chattering)

(phone ringing)

Oh, hey, guys.

Shh, it's Brennan.

Hey.

Hi, hello.

What are you doing?

We were just talking about you.

Nothing bad, I assure you.

The night is young.

Oh, here, let me put you on speaker.

Bray: Hey, Dr. B, you gonna be here soon or do you want us to go ahead and order for you?

I don't know what you're talking about.

Why is no one here in the lab?

Honey, are you... are you feeling okay?

Aside from being abandoned, yes, I'm fine.

So, you don't remember sending that e-mail out?

I-I-I don't know to what you are referring.

The e-mail you sent; you told us to shut down the lab and that you were gonna meet us here at the Founding Fathers.

Hey, Dr. Brennan, you're so sleep deprived you probably just don't remember. (laughs)

No, I assure you I did no such thing.

Montenegro: Okay, then... if you didn't send the e-mail, who did?

I... I have to go.

Hodgins: No, no, no, hold on.

Dr. B, what's happening?

I know who sent that e-mail.

He's here right now.

It's okay.

I just must be having another nightmare.

Montenegro: Wait, whoa, whoa, what-what are you talking about?

(phone beeps off)

Dr. B? Hello?

Um, I'm calling Booth.

This is bad.

Hello?

Call you right back, Cam.

Hey, what's going on?

Ready to go in?

Apparently you are.

Agent Booth, stop.

I don't know what you're...

No, you stop right now, okay?

I need your notes.

Everything you talked about with my wife.

No, I can't breach confidentiality.

You can breach confidentiality if someone's in danger.

Hey... Get up here. Do you understand me?

She is missing. He took her and he's gonna k*ll her. I need your damn notes.

All right, take them. They're in my office.

They're in your office.

Sit down. Okay.

Get the car.

Cam, all right, this is what we're going to do.

Cam, did you do everything I asked?

Yeah, were you able to get the notes?

I got the notebook right here.

All right, what do we have here?

Montenegro: Okay, this is everything we've got.

Every conceivable detail about who this k*ller could be.

Okay, Aubrey, add to the board, uh, what we have on the mix tape.

Okay, so... we know that the k*ller was musical, okay?

Likely born after 1978, somewhere in the Midwest, probably in Michigan.

Booth: Okay, what else?

In terms of mathematical and computational linguistics, this guy is off the charts.

He also knows human anatomy.

And robotics or applied engineering.

Also, he's not very strong.

He struggled physically taking his most recent victim.

Oh, okay. Okay...

1978... Michigan...

Whoa, whoa, wait, wait, wait.

Wait a second, Bones mentioned something in this notebook, talking about her dreams, yeah.

Here it is.

It's about you.

What? Me-me?

You think I had something to do with this?

She said that your hands were burnt, like they'd been in some kind of an expl*si*n.

But that doesn't make any sense.

Look at him, his hands are fine.

Hodgins: Yeah, but, come on, dreams aren't always literal.

I mean, Wendell could just be a symbol here.

A symbol for what?

For someone who used to work at the lab.

I know who it is.

Oh, no... it can't be.

(engine revving)

I need to see him.

Agent Booth, it's the middle of the night.

I assure you, he is sleeping.

I need to see him with my own eyes.

He is sleeping!

Agent Booth, you can't...!

(beeping)

Agent Booth.

Come back.

Agent Booth!

Agent Booth, come back.

You can't go into his room, he's sleeping.

Please, Agent Booth.

Don't disturb him.

Agent Booth, you can't just barge into his room.

(thunder crashing)

I'll call security.

Man: It's time to wake up.

Zack?

Dr. Brennan, it is good to see you again.

You and I... we have so much to talk about.

What's that mean?
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