Maybe the alcohol wasn't a good idea. The liquid coursing down her throat and being absorbed into her bloodstream was making her thoughts fuzzy. Metaphorically. She knew the minute Booth told her that he was in a relationship things would change. They had. Only minutely but as the second Law of Thermodynamics states, change is inevitable. Change. She and Booth both had changed, in turn so had their relationship. It took her more effort to compartmentalize. He wasn't such a prude when it came to his sex life. Hers was non-existent. The lingering touches and looks from him had ceased. They still spent time together outside of work but now, He had Hannah. Most of the time she felt like the third wheel.
She didn't think of herself as sentimental. Not like Booth anyway. But now, walking around her apartment, full wine glass in hand, she felt the tug of sentiments. The photos that were scattered around her apartment made her think of her friends. There was the picture from Christmas. The one she had spent with both of her families. It was the picture she and the squint squad had taken after they had exchanged gifts. They all looked so genuinely happy. As her eyes traveled the picture and landed on Zack, she suddenly realized how much she truly did miss him. Then the guilt washed over her. Guilt for sometimes forgetting about him. He was in a mental institution by himself with people sure to not understand him. The guilt she felt for him being there had only grown since that night back at the Jeffersonian, after they had found out. Right now, though, as she gave up on the wine and went for the whiskey, the guilt was growing exponentially. Guilt, sorrow, all emotions. Pains she couldn't describe. It was like the alcohol opened the floodgates of her brain letting all of her emotions and thoughts intermingle. Speaking metaphorically, the only problem was she couldn't stop it. She wondered if Booth ever felt like this? She sighed deeply at the thought of him, salty water that would have only been a tear rolled into her mouth. She wondered when she had started crying. Too caught up in and of her slowed processes.
She padded slowly to her room setting her glass on the bedside table, her hand brushing her phone. As she glanced at it she thought of Booth again. Wondered what he was doing. Wondered if she ever even entered his thoughts outside of work and being his partner anymore. She suddenly, for a reason she could not understand, wanted to call him. The buzz off the alcohol was slimming the chance of her not doing it. She had called him like this once before, he had told her it was fine, that he was honored that she had called him. She didn't understand it then, nor does she now, but it was nice back then, to have someone to call in the middle of the night. Back then seems so long ago. In this moment though, she needed him. Needed to know if he still cared. She needed to be comforted. He had to be sleep, though, it was only 2:17 a.m. She needed him. She dialed the number and settled on her bed. She felt a little bad as she listened to the phone ring through. She felt terrible once he'd answered the phone. "Hello?" He answered in a shushed tone, it wasn't until the shamed, nervous, blood rush had passed her ears that it finally registered in her brain that he didn't sound like he had been roused from sleep at all.
"I'm sorry, did I wake you?" she asked anyway. She could hear fabric being ruffled through the phone and a moan in the background getting smaller as she heard him walking. She hadn't even thought of Hannah. She wanted to feel bad, but she couldn't find it in her. Suddenly she felt the need to correct something. Excuse herself for calling, she supposed. "I'm sorry." She apologized again.
"It's ok, Bones. Are you?" He asked, She sat quietly, as her analytical, alcohol induced brain deciphered the oddly phrased question.
"I'm fine." She replied. "I was just thinking…" They both fell silent. "Do you miss Zack?" she said after a couple of minutes. She heard him sigh and unexpectedly felt a little self conscious.
"Sometimes." He said. She hadn't expected his answer but it wasn't shocking for some reason.
"Me too." She admitted, but of course she did. She loved him.
After another significant silence Booth said "Sometimes I miss us. Before Afghanistan and Maluku." She assumed that the fact that this was the first time he said 'Maluku' right that he was, indeed, quite serious.
He still cared. Honestly, from his behavior she would have never guessed. "Really?" She asked.
"Sometimes, I get scared that we're drifting apart and then one day we'll look at each other and not know one another anymore. I don't want that to happen."
Despite the metaphors, she understood what he was saying. "Me neither." She conceded. They sat for a while, listening to the other's breathing, both enjoying the soothing affect. She felt her eyelids getting heavy, and as loathe she was to hang up the phone, she knew he was probably tired as well, and she would feel the effects of her early morning binge when she woke up. "You should get some sleep Booth." She lightly chastised.
"You too." The reluctance to hang up the phone was felt by both. A few more minutes of silence passed. "Bones…?" He said quietly. "I'm glad you called."
She wondered if he knew she was smiling at the moment. "Goodnight, Booth." Surely he could hear it in her voice.
"G'night, Bones" He said on the tip of a yawn.
"Booth?" she called before he could hang up. "Thank you." She said when she heard the phone hit his ear.
"It's my honor, Bones." He said before she heard the click signaling he had hung up.
As she settled into bed for the night, the thought of why she needed him flitted through her mind. He was the only person who could truly understand her.