I just saw the episode Hole In The Heart and was very impressed with it. There were a number of elements that were superbly done, both in terms of humor as well as drama. I decided to write this short piece as an episode addition to give my impression of a possible aftermath. I hope you enjoy it. Gregg.
Disclaimer: I don't own, or profit from, these characters or franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Booth was in his office working on some more mundane paperwork. In the aftermath of the Jacob Broadsky nightmare, and the tragic death of Vincent, he had been spending a lot more time in his office. Fortunately there hadn't been many cases in the last few weeks. No matter what he had told everyone, he still felt a horrible guilt over the young man's death. He also had reflected on the question he'd been asked by his junior agent when Vincent had died. Was he a friend? He'd answered quickly, and in many ways to make the point that the Squints were special, but did he really believe it when he said that he was his friend? In the final analysis, he had to admit that the quirky, fact spouting, energetic young man had indeed been a friend.
That fact, though, caused him to feel a genuine, painful guilt that he hadn't felt in a long time. Probably not since young Teddy Parker had died. Bones had been a big help, though. They were steadily working on their relationship, and the progress since that night when she had cried herself to sleep in his arms on his bed had been staggering. Not a day went by that she didn't call a couple of time while he was at work to check up on him. They had lunch at the Diner almost everyday, and each evening they had dinner at either of their apartments. They'd spent a great deal of time talking, and they were in definite agreement that when things slowed down, both on her end, and on his, that they would go away for a few days and really work on developing this further. But Vincent's death still haunted him.
"Booth?"
Bones voice startled him out of his thoughts. Looking up he smiled. He also noticed that a woman was with her. Nicely dressed, though not appearing too expensive. Someone who obviously worked for a living.
"Hey, Bones," he said with a smile as he stood up. "Who's your friend?"
"This is Mrs. Nigel-Murray, Vincent's mother," Bones explained. She observed Booth very carefully and noticed the minute, almost completely imperceptible, flinch. She knew that Booth had been feeling guilty over Vincent's death, as had she, so she was hoping that this meeting would help.
Booth came over and offered his hand. "Mrs. Nigel-Murray, I'm very sorry for what happened to Vincent, and the loss you've suffered," he said, letting the genuine sorrow shine through in his eyes.
"Thank you, Agent Booth," she replied, taking in the bearing and countenance of the man she'd heard so much about from Vincent. "Vincent spoke of you often, and thought very highly of you. Both of you, actually. He was very proud to be a part of what the two of you do." She paused. "I was hoping that you could perhaps tell me how Vincent was killed? I think not knowing hurts more than if I knew."
Booth looked up at Bones who nodded. "Please have a seat, Mrs. Nigel-Murray," he offered, showing here to the small couch he had in his office. He and Bones sat on the seats opposite. With careful attention to detail he explained who Jacob Broadsky was, and what the case was about. He then got to the time when a phone call had come in to his cell and he'd handed it to Vincent to keep Broadsky on the line and it was that that had caused him to be fatally shot.
Mrs. Nigel-Murray held her emotions at bay as much as she could, and then asked one final question. "Did Vincent suffer?"
He felt Bones slip her hand into his, and he understood that she was giving him permission to lie and give the grieving Mother some measure of comfort. It showed just how far Bones had come over the years.
"No, Ma'am," Booth said firmly. "He didn't feel a thing. He was alive briefly, and he said he wasn't ready to leave, but he didn't suffer. I'm sure of that."
"I remember so clearly when he came into our flat and told me that he had been picked to be an intern to you, Dr. Brennan," she passed on the memory. She chuckled. "He had read your novels, and while in college had read so many of your professional writings. He'd mentioned you and his wish that he could be a student of yours. Vincent never had it easy growing up. He was so different from other children. When he came here to work for Dr. Brennan he came alive. Almost every letter or phone call had some story about the two of you and the work he felt privileged to be a part of. He said he looked forward to each new day. I don't think I can ever remember him having been happier."
Bones reached into her ever present pouch and brought out an issue of the latest Journal of Anthropology and handed it to Vincent's mother.
"Vincent and I were working on a joint project for a major presentation, Mrs. Nigel-Murray," Bones told her. "Shortly before he died, he made a very startling discovery which changed the dynamics of our research profoundly. I finished the working paper and submitted it in Vincent's name. While he did not achieve his Doctorate his death, I hope it may be a comfort to know that, in the eyes of the academic world, your son was a published scholar in a recognized professional journal."
"But what about recognition for your work on the project?" Mrs. Nigel-Murray protested.
"Vincent deserved this recognition," Bones told her firmly, but politely. "He worked very hard, and his enthusiasm was a very real motivating factor in my having accepted his request to do a joint project. I have also established a perpetual scholarship fund for foreign students and interns at the Jeffersonian in Vincent's name."
Mrs. Nigel-Murray was floored. The startling phone call from Dr. Brennan asking her to come to the US, at Dr. Brennan's expense, had been like a dream. She had been hoping to meet the people Vincent had worked for and with, and now she had been given the opportunity. But to find that his teacher had created a scholarship in her son's name brought tears to her eyes.
"I don't know what to say," she said finally, accepting the handkerchief that Agent Booth had extended to her.
"You're not alone," Booth said from where he sat. When he saw the confused look on her face he explained. "Vincent didn't deserve what happened to him, Mrs. Nigel-Murray. Jacob Broadsky was a very respected military sniper. He was the man who trained me to be a sniper when I was in the Army. He lost his way and it became my job to find him and put an end to what he was doing. Bones is my partner, and she was by my side the whole way. When I looked down at Vincent and found that he'd been shot a lot went through my mind as I acted on autopilot. The thing that hurt me the most was that I hadn't done more to get to know him better. He did what we asked with no hesitation, and the work we do put him in harm's way. If this scholarship fund, and the published article means that he won't be forgotten, then it's the very least that could be done. It's sure made me take a look at who my friends are, and a little ashamed that I didn't recognize it sooner."
"He knew you cared, Agent Booth," Vincent's mother told him. "He wouldn't have written or spoken of you in such glowing terms if he didn't feel a genuine friendship at some level."
Bones reached her hand over and squeezed his. She could see that this meeting was benefiting him a great deal. She'd been worried about him, and herself also, and had felt that it would be cathartic to be able to have her here in person to receive the condolences, and then the accolades Vincent deserved.
"There's one other matter to be taken care of," Bones said as she took an envelope out of her pouch. She handed it to her. "The Jeffersonian has paid off all of the remaining student debt that Vincent had from his studies in England. Vincent had mentioned that you were having to work two jobs in order to subsist and also make payments on his student cost. I arranged with the Board of Directors to have that debt paid in full. In there is a receipt noting the full payment of the total debt. Also in there is a check for £1,000,000. When I got back from Maluku I decided to place a life insurance policy on each of my students with their families as the beneficiaries. That cashiers check is the value of the policy that was in Vincent's name, converted, of course, into British pounds."
Now Vincent's mother was truly floored. With a shaky hand she opened the envelope and read the paid in full receipt, and then looked at the cashiers check. There it was. In her name a check for £1,000,000.
"Now I really don't know what to say," she said, her voice shaky and unsure.
"Consider it a final gift from Vincent," Bones said, her own voice a bit shaky. She had just lied about the insurance. It was a cashiers check drawn from her own bank account. But she did indeed plan on taking out insurance policies in her interns names from that point on.
"Now he can look down and know you're able to have a good life without having to just get by," Booth told her, giving Bones' hand a squeeze, knowing that the insurance policy didn't exist and it was all Bones.
Bones looked at her watch and stood up. "Mrs. Nigel-Murray, we should go and let Booth get back to work. I would like to give you a tour of the Jeffersonian where Vincent worked, and introduce you to the people who work there," she said.
"Of course," the other woman said, a small blush on her cheeks at the thought of having interrupted the nice man who her son had called a friend.
"Mrs. Nigel-Murray is staying with me the five days she will be here, Booth," Bones told him. "Would you join us for dinner tonight? I'll make Mac-n-Cheese, and get a pie from the diner."
"I'd love to," he said with a warm smile. He looked at Mrs. Nigel-Murray. "It was very nice meeting you, Ma'am, despite the circumstances. I'll see you this evening."
"It was nice meeting you, too, Agent Booth," she smiled. "And please, call me Karen."
"Alright, Karen," Booth smiled.
"I'd like you to do one thing for me, Agent Booth," Karen said firmly.
"Anything," he responded.
"Don't blame yourself for anything, even not getting to know my Vincent as well as you think you should have," she requested. "He may not have believed in God, or Heaven, but I believe he is there anyway, and that he died doing what he felt was right. How many of can truly say that when their time comes?"
"I'm sure he is up there and pleased at what has come about, Karen," Booth said.
Karen Nigel-Murray gave his arm a squeeze and walked out of the office to give the two of them a moment.
"Do you feel a bit better?" Bones asked, her hand on Booths arm, taking comfort and giving it, with the touch.
Booth smiled. "I really do, Bones," he told her. "I'm really proud of you, Bones. What you did is beyond words, and has helped a very nice person going through a very difficult time. It shows the kind of person you've always been."
Bones leaned forward and kissed him. Not in a passionate, or overly intimate way, but considering it was in his office at the Hoover Building it was a significant gesture.
"Don't be late tonight," she said as she stepped away and to the door. She turned her head and mouthed "I love you," to him and then was gone.
Despite the slight uncertainty of the last few weeks, he was now sure of what was happening between them. They were forging ahead and turning a terrible tragedy into something good and lasting. With a renewed energy and confidence he went back to his work.
A/N: Well, there's my feel good post episode story. I hesitated to write this, but felt it might be a nice addition to the body of work that is already out there dealing with the episode and Vincent's death. I hope you all enjoyed it. Gregg.
A/N2: I will indeed be posting the third chapter to The Stash tomorrow. I just wanted to post this one which I wrote this morning first.