The New King

Only Possible

Bones wasn’t letting up on my “insensitivity” about the case. They are girls. Sure thing, they can dress up like guys, but I just see them as girls and that is that. I would never let Christine defy who she was. Well, okay. I’d let her be who she wants to be, but I stand my ground. Jackland and Danielle. Simple. I’m keeping it that way.

The night was stressful. Bones and I kept our phones on just in case Angie and Hodgins called about the suspect. Thankfully they didn’t and Bones received a text when she was dropping off Christine that they were alright and were taking him to the Jeffersonian. The suspect. Of  murder investigation. In the place my family works. With weapons.

I almost intervened, but had to let my guard down a tad. Angie of all people would be the one to raise the red flag on a situation like this, and she didn’t. She was the one who wanted to bring Pruitt, not Hodgins.

When I got to the Jeffersonian with Bones, I rushed to Angie’s office to see the suspect on the couch in Angie’s office, letting his hand escape from his wrist and cascade across a sketch pad. He was drawing something, presumably Angie. She seemed still when I looked at her. I knocked on the door frame and she looked up at me.

“All good here,” she smiled. “Just taking a little break for the cops.”

“Hey, I’m not a cop. Cops and FBI’s are different.”

“Sure,” the suspect smiled.

“And what about the murder suspect sitting on the couch in your office?” I asked. Angie frowned and the kid let out a sigh.

“He’s not at all bad, Booth. He told Hodgins everything over dinner. He’s really good with Michael Vincent, he helped do the dishes, and even get Michael incent to bed without a fuss. Booth,” she said. Decker stopped the drawing and Angie stood. “I’m adopting him.”

My jaw dropped. She couldn’t be serious, could she? Decker smiled and Angie sat back down with a whispered “sorry” to him, giving me enough information to know he was indeed drawing her.

“Not until he’s proven innocent,” I said, walking out and down the hall to Hodgin’s  office. He rushed past me to his computer, typed in a couple things, and ran to his test table with a bottle of blue liquid. He poured it over a dead cat’s head and I looked away as he seemed intrigued by whatever sciency-gross stuff was happening.

“Fascinating,” he said, walking to me with a smile on his face. “Agent Booth.”

“Jack,” I said in reply, not wanting to look to the experiment. “So, adoption?”

“Angie and I talked about it all night and we’ve gotten everything settled. First of the month he’s signed over to us and we can take him in. He can go to a public school and then we can start to begin his transitions.”

“Good for you. Keep in mind he’s-”

“A suspect,” he stopped me, “yes; however, I may have proved he’s actually innocent.” He walked back to his table and waved me over.

“I’d rather not,” I said, but I walked over anyhow and looked to his madness. The flesh from the skull was nearly gone and I frowned at him.

“There’s an acidic residue in the sodium solution that I found on the victim’s clothing.”

“So, acids can pinpoint the difference between clothes and skin?”

“No, there was a powdered form on the clothes, not the liquid form I just made. Whatever solution the victim had on his clothes was what was on the murderer’s clothing. Decker said he and Jack weren’t at that site at all, and I even rechecked the residue on his clothes and there wasn’t anything.”

“The victim and the murderer were working together?” I asked. He nodded. “That makes perfect sense, because Decker said how Jackland was trying to get her to meet the Lith guy and then he came out and what-not. Lith meant to aim for Decker, but ended up killing Jackland!” The dots connected and I put my hands onto Hodgin’s shoulders.

“What are you doin-”

“Decker’s innocent.” I ran out and was quickly in the prosecutor's office.