Every time I hear "River of Tears" by Eric Clapton, this little scene comes to mind. I'm sharing. It is set after The Wannabe in the Weeds.
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Dr. Temperance Brennan stood just inside the massive sanctuary of Holy Trinity Catholic Church in Washington, DC. Her eyes burned from unshed tears as she looked down the aisle to the casket. She saw his family on the right side of the aisle; she focused on Parker, only evident by his partially shown head of brown curls. On the left side of the aisle, she saw Angela, Jack, Zack, Cam, and Dr. Lance Sweets on the front row. A space on the end of the pew next to Angela was empty; she reasoned it'd been left for her. Taking a deep breath, she slowly walked down the aisle, averting her eyes from the casket as much as she possibly could. Angela glanced up, eyes full of sorrow, as Brennan sat down. Inside her purse, her one-way plane ticket to Guatemala stuck out. Jack pulled Angela tighter against him as the Bishop made his way to the platform.
"Hello and welcome," he started, reading from a piece of paper. "We are here today mourning the loss of a great man, Special Agent Seeley Booth…" Brennan's mind drifted. "Come on Bones. It'll be fun," Booth had said, trying to coax her into singing karaoke. She'd smiled at him and agreed. Her heart ached. Booth, she whispered, putting her fingertips to her lips. Angela grabbed her other hand and squeezed. Brennan avoided Angela's gaze, knowing it would cause her to slip over the proverbial edge and release the pain that was, for now, neatly contained. The Bishop continued detailing Booth's accomplishments, and after he was finished, a few people got up to speak. Jack spoke first, thanking Booth for his friendship and guidance and offering his sincere condolences to Booth's family. Caroline Julian was next, telling everyone what a great man Booth had been, giving his life to save his partner. Brennan tapped her foot. Caroline stepped down, and Brennan was next. Grabbing a folded up piece of paper, she stepped onto the platform. Clearing her throat, she began.
"When I first met Agent Booth, I didn't like him. He was cocky and overbearing…and he never fails…failed…to get underneath my skin." Brennan took a deep breath to stifle the lump. She stared intently at the words she'd written. "He never failed to be there for me, even when I didn't want him to be. He was my rock when I discovered I'd lost my mother and found my father. He protected me, saved me, and eventually died for me." Brennan's voice cracked, and her eyes blurred with tears. She fought to regain composure. Continuing, her voice was barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry, Booth, that I never got to tell you how much you meant to me. How much I valued your friendship, your hugs, and your sound wisdom. You were my best friend, Booth. And I love you." She folded up her piece of paper and walked slowly down to the casket. She caressed the soft mahogany wood and said good-bye.
Angela touched Brennan's arm briefly as she grabbed her purse to leave. Leaving was what Brennan did, Angela reasoned. And instead of begging her to stay, she let her friend flee. Running down the aisle, Brennan didn't notice the man sitting in the back, his eyes full of hurt and pain. He'd heard the speech, saw how the pain had distorted his partner's face, and felt responsible. Damn the FBI, he thought as he rose up out of his seat and left.