Disclaimer: I do not own Bones. I own a laptop and a crazy obsession.
This was the one day a year that she hated the most. The one day out of 365 days that it was completely impossible for her to remain rational and objective. The one day a year that she would rather drive 4 hours away from D.C. back to a place that she wished she could forget, but held the biggest part of her broken heart.
To curl up in a ball in the soft green grass beside the dark stone and cry. Cry for a life that she had that was taken away in the blink of an eye.
She remembered the day that Booth made her promise that she would come and visit his grave and talk to him. He had no idea that she already was a frequent visitor to this small cemetery, and talked to the grave more times that she was willing to admit because she knew it was irrational. But somewhere, somewhere very deep down it soothed her crushed heart.
And as she lay there in the grass she let the memories flood through her mind.
"I'm pregnant"
"What do you mean, pregnant? We…we always use protection…it has to be like…like a false positive or something."
"I shouldn't have to explain to you of all people, Michael that condoms are not 100 percent effective in the prevention of pregnancy. I took three tests…they were all positive. Clear as the weekend..."
"Clear as day…the saying is clear as day, Temperance."
She still regretted that Michael did not want to be a part of her life or the life of the child that they had created, after that day he informed her that their relationship needed to end. It was irrational and inappropriate for a professor to procreate with one of his grad students.
She never saw him again.
"Ms. Brennan…on the count of three I need you to push. The cord is wrapped around the baby's neck, and I have to pull the head out before I can cut it."
"1…2…3"
She pushed, pushed for one last time with every last bit of energy that she had left in her tired body. And has the sweat poured down from her forehead to her cheeks, she heard her baby cry for the first time.
Her baby.
No one had been there to hold her hair as the morning sickness reeked havoc on her days. She was alone. No one was there to watch her belly expand and her baby grow, to help pick out a name for her daughter. She went through labor and delivery alone. No one was there to hold her hand or tell her how strong she was.
Until suddenly she was no longer alone, she had a baby. A daughter.
Michaela.
She named her after him. As a way to assure that she would always have a part of the father that she would never know. A father that did not love her enough to stay.
They had a life together, Temperance and her baby.
She had managed to finish school and receive 3 doctorate degrees all while raising her daughter. Michaela was the light of her life. She was smart and beautiful, with the same deep blue eyes and wavy light brown curls that Brennan herself had. She had Michael's smile. She could never escape that smile. She saw it on her daughter every single day.
They lived and loved life together for 6 years.
"I don't understand…h-how did this happen?"
"It was nothing that you or your daughter could have prevented Dr. Brennan…it just…it just happens."
"Leukemia…I mean people survive that every day right? Right?"
"Michaela has stage 4 leukemia, and there is not much we can do at this point. The cancer has spread to her lungs and her kidneys."
"So, what? I am just supposed to sit here and watch my child suffer? Unable to make her better, comfort her?"
She cried then. She cried and she held her daughter in her arms, rocking her slowly back and forth as she slept.
Almost a year to the day that they had received the diagnosis, Michaela lost her battle.
Temperance was glad that her daughter had gone peacefully, in her sleep.
But she cried again. Cried that her daughter had suffered for almost year before losing her battle to cancer. Cried that she only got to know her for a short 6 years. Cried that she no longer knew what love was, that she no longer had a reason to live.
She lost herself in the bones.
That is when she had accepted the job at the Jeffersonian and moved to Washington D.C. in search of a new life.
But she knew that she would never forget. She would never be the same again.
She knew that losing Michaela was the reason the she was cold and distant. The reason why she refused to let Booth in, the reason why she never wanted another child again. It was simply too painful.
No one knew of the sweet little bright eyed girl that held Brennan's heart.
She could not bring herself to tell Angela or Booth about it, it was a part of her that was too vulnerable. To scarred.
So here she sat. On the fifth anniversary of the day that the light in her heart had died, she sat next to the grave arranging the daffodils and daisies that she had brought.
"I miss you. Every day I miss you. Some days it is still hard to get out of bed and face the day knowing that I will never see your bright smile again. I hope that you are in heaven, the kind of heaven that Booth tells me about all the time. For you I am willing to believe in a place like that. For you I am willing to believe anything."
She stood up and whipped the stream of tears from her eyes and looked back down at the angel headstone.
Michaela Christine Brennan
October 17, 1998- June 12, 2004
Smart, Beautiful, Loving daughter
"I love you so much, Michaela."
"I will see you soon."
And with one last deep breath she whipped the remaining tears from her eyes and walked away.