A/N: This was very difficult for me to write, as I hate character deaths, so I sobbed alot while I wrote. They don't even bear thinking about. But a phrase popped into my head (Hating me, loving you and crying to everyone we knew) and this idea formed around it. As a writer, I like to branch out and try new things, stretch myself. I hadn't done one of these really angsty fics before, so I wanted to see what I could. If you feel like reviewing, then I would love to hear your thoughts on my characterisation and the emotion throughout, if there was any for you. Thanks. :)
Booth awoke. His sad eyes flickered over the grim rain outside, and it fit the occasion perfectly. One year to the day exactly. One year to the day where him and Bones had declared their true feelings. One year to the day where they hadn't gotten their happy ending.
He rose sharply, the darkness within him gathering, his leg screaming in agony. A long shower was necessary, if he was ever to make the day. He washed his hair slowly, his movements sluggish. He didn't want to be here. He didn't want to be in this place, not now, not ever.
He phoned his boss. "Cullen, I can't come in today. It's the one year anniversary. My partner's death. Thanks, boss." He shut off the phone.
He pulled on jeans and a t-shirt, since he wasn't working. He decided to give the Squint Squad a visit.
The new agent assigned to them made himself scarce once he saw Booth. He knew the history to this place. They were a seriously unhappy lot of people. He nodded respectfully at Booth as he walked past him.
The Squint Squad looked up, surprise and sadness flickering in their dark eyes. Angela was in tears and had grown excessively thin. Zack was pale and had dark circles under his eyes. Hodgins' face was drawn and he wore a far-away look. Even Cam eye's were red and swollen.
Booth stepped up to the platform slowly and took them all in. He stopped a beat and took in their pain. He felt it as much as they did. Except they couldn't feel his back. His pain was stronger than any of them could ever imagined.
Angela took one look at Booth before rushing forward and throwing herself into his arms. He cradled her against him, her sobs wracking her body. Hot pain stole through his heart, as fresh tears sprung to his eyes. He saw the other eyes watching him, their looks reflecting his. We miss her.
Finally Angela let him go, turning away and running down toward her office. No one tried to follow her, knowing she was as inconsolable as the rest of them. After Angela, Cam was the person he was most comfortable with, so he approached her, seeking some salvation. She had none to offer either, knowing the only person who could truly comfort him was gone. She clutched his arm painfully, as tears blurred her vision. She looked away.
He looked to Hodgins. He grimaced. Booth was a man's man, but his heart simply wasn't strong enough to push Hodgins away when he hugged him. He touched his arms round the other man's back briefly.
Zack suddenly spoke up. "Go down to her office. It's the exact same way she left it."
Booth clutched Zack's shoulder in a supporting manner, as he passed. The Squints shared a look between themselves. Booth was a broken man.
He approached the office, his wooden stick clicking on the floor. His eyes took in the familiar surroundings, but also the empty feeling the place now held. It was once a place of refuge, of happy moments. Now all he could see was the never-ending loneliness his future held. His life was nothing without her. He needed her, and to not have her…It was pure pain for love lost that made him finally enter the room.
He needed something of her, more than every novel she had ever written. An essence, a scent, an object, anything. A reason to remind him that life was still worth living, while she wasn't in the world. He sat down in her computer chair and the memories stole over him.
He remembered the first time they kissed. He smiled a watery smile. How she had insisted she must kiss him, or Caroline wouldn't help her. Oh, how she could make him do anything when she tried. How he would give anything to have her back.
And the day she declared her love for him. The memory lit his heart with a sad glow.
"Booth, don't be so stubborn! He's my friend, not my boyfriend!" she yelled.
"I know he's not your boyfriend, I'm your boyfriend!" he shouted back at her.
"So then why are you being so possessive and showing this alpha male side!?"
"Because I love you, and I don't want to share you with anyone else!" Her face softened and she smiled warmly at him.
"I love you too Booth."
Tears rolled down his cheeks. It was the very same day he had got her killed. He had been driving them out to lunch, to celebrate. He had taken his eyes off the road for a second. A head on collision with a lorry. There was no way she could have survived. It was the most unfortunate miracle he did.
His stick was a constant reminder of what he had done to her. He didn't want to forget. Didn't want to forget her, the love of his life, his best friend and his soul mate. She was also his tragedy. He couldn't forget that.
He hobbled over to her couch and settled down into it, pulling her cover down over himself. It smelled like her. For one glorious moment, Booth closed his eyes and drew in the scent. It was almost like having her back in his arms again.
Except his heart told him the difference. Sometimes, the pain got so bad, the razor blades in his bathroom and the colour red began to look like something close to hope. But he always stopped before he got there. He still had Parker.
Fresh tears washed over him. He laid down on her couch and curled into a ball. He couldn't live with himself anymore. He couldn't live knowing he had killed his soul mate. He had done some awful things in his lifetime, but this one was the worst of all
Everyone had told him her death wasn't her fault. The lorry driver was drunk, swerving all over the road. He couldn't be blamed, it was just one of those things. But he knew, in his heart, that it was his fault. If he had kept his eyes on the road, instead on her beautiful face, then maybe she would still be here. He would have been given more time to love her. And be loved in return.
The way her voice sounded was beginning to slip from his memory these days. He couldn't quite remember how her voice was shrill when annoyed, or deep when touched. It was getting vaguer with each day that passed. He slipped the photo from his pocket. He was grateful for small blessings, for he had a way of never forgetting her face.
The picture was creased and covered in finger prints, but he didn't care. It was their last one, and he would never have another to treasure. A night-out together, at the bowling alley. Him in red, her in green, his arm round her shoulder, her head leaning against his, genuine smiles creasing their faces. A happy moment captured in time. This was all he had of her soulful eyes now.
He reached out for his stick where he sat, but made no move to get up. He ran his fingers over the curved part, on the underside. It was well worn with his fingers remembering her, but he didn't care.
He never wanted to forget the pain he had caused so many people. Maybe that's why he had done it. To punish himself. Or maybe he had gotten 'Temperance' carved on the underside of his stick because, he needed the comfort. Or simply because he would never be able to let go of the wounded heart he now bore.
Or maybe it was just another way of keeping her memory alive, a way to remind himself that losing his soul mate wasn't just a bad dream, but a heartless reality.
Booth sobbed. He knew the reason he had her name carved on his walking stick. It was in the hope, that wherever she was, she had forgiven him his mistake.
Brennan watched as a shadow of the next life, while Booth broke his heart for her. She brushed his hair and kissed his cheek. He felt a faint tickle on him and smiled. It was her.
She was watching over him. And loving him from afar.