So, I'm pretty new to the fan fic world. I've written a few stories for Private Practice, but I've stayed away from Bones until now for two reasons. It's my favorite show, and I don't want to do it any injustice. AND Temperance Brennan has got to be the most complicated woman on the planet. I think if I watched every episode of Bones back to back, forever, I'd still never be able to figure that girl out. and I LOVE that, but it makes for fic writing hard, and scary. BUT I digress. Everyone is putting their thoughts on the last eps of the season and I've had these ideas in my head for what feels like weeks, though it's only been days! Plus I can't wait for EitB, but I've still got four days to go, so this is gonna keep me busy. It will be three parts. Bones POV, then Booths, and then one that will be a mix of the two. Hope you enjoy, and that I did Temperance Brennan a decent ammount of justice. Also, I love feed back if anyone is offering. Let me know what you think.
Angela said something to me, something that keeps repeating itself over and over. Life is ephemeral. I tried to disregard it. I thought if I could persuade my mind that what she said didn't include an ounce of truth I could just get past it. But it's impossible. Angela is in fact correct. I live my life sidestepping relationships, hoping no one will ever love me, because love, love has broken my heart. Love has only left me alone, empty.
Yet here I am, in this OR, and I find it categorically impossible to deny my heart access to my feelings any longer. So I'm trying, most unsuccessfully, to figure out exactly when I became acutely aware of my feelings for Seeley Booth. But I can't seem to select one definite moment in our history together in which the aforementioned feelings became evidently clear. All I can seem to distinguish is that this waiting, looking over Booths stationary figure while they operate on him, listening to the constant beep of the monitor ticking away with every beat of his heart, only makes me think about what reasons were imperative enough to make me keep my feelings to myself.
There are many reasons, of that I'm positive, but right now all I see is him, and I can't for the life of me remember why this man doesn't know how I feel about him. I shift uncomfortably on my feet, checking the clock to see just how many more minutes of this I will have to endure. How many minutes left before I know he's going to make it, before I know he's going to come back to me? If I lose him again, I'm not positive I'll ever be able to move on. Though it's anthropologically impossible, I can't help but feel like I'll no longer be a whole person without him. It's irrational, to even think that way, and Temperance Brennan on any other day wouldn't say this, couldn't say this, but this is not a customary day. This man, my partner in more ways than one, is lying helpless before me, a specialist cutting into his brain, and though I've never before experienced heart break over a member of the opposite sex, here I am, and damn it if I can't convince myself that my heart is merely an organ.
I love him, and as I finally let my head comprehend the words, my heart is quickly cracking in two. I just need to breathe. Once he gets though this, I can push the feelings back, I can be professional. We can be Booth and Brennan again—Booth and Bones. But now that I've acknowledged my feelings they seem impossible to conceal. My feelings for this man are anything but transitory. I don't want anything between us to be transitory.
Booth is too virtuous a man to have his life end this way and I can't help but try to believe that there is something superior to Booth that will help get him through this. And though I've never been one to have faith, Booth has always had faith and for him, I begin to feel something I'm not accustom too, something I can only assume is hope, trust, faith. And though I'd like to imagine I'm making this tiny wish to an imaginary entity solely for Booths sake, it's nearly impossible to deny that it's a selfish act as well.
I need him live. Not for any other reason except that the world will be a fraction closer to finding its irrelevancies without such an honest man to fight for truth. Without Booth, how will I know how to be courageous, compassionate, and empathetic? How will I continue to be the person Booth has helped me to become? Booth says we make marks on each other. But without him, do they last? Would I want them to if that meant the constant reminder of by whom they had been left?
Which brings this whole ramble to conclusion at the simple statement I had asked Booth only a few weeks prior; is it worth it? Loving someone? Booth says it is. Every moment, no matter how frivolous or inconsequential, is worth it. He'd better be right, because here I am, in this OR, fighting back the tears, trying not to scream at the surgeons to please, please save the man in front of them, because he's mine. He's always been mine, and I love him. And no matter how hard I've fought against it, every moment, has been worth it, and it can't end now. Not when it's only begnning.